


Dragonborn - Book 1

by Fanningon



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-01
Updated: 2017-10-27
Packaged: 2018-12-10 00:07:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 327,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11679933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fanningon/pseuds/Fanningon
Summary: new parts posted on Mondays AEST!Saadia is a Redguard warrior from the Isle of Stirk in Cyrodiil.  She’s a big woman who likes to swing around a huge warhammer to kill her foes.  She ends up in Skyrim, just when everything is going to Oblivion. But she’s a woman who’s just trying to escape her past in a world that desperately needs her.I know this game is relatively old now, and the fandom must be tiny now.  but I don’t care. I love this game  & because I am poor, I could only afford to buy it late and thus play it much later than everyone else, so I am so late to the partyyou don’t have to be in the fandom to read this! - you just have to like fantasy adventure stories that are led by a woman!- Please note, this is Fanfic not cannon. Please don’t message me to tell me that I got some detail wrong - I don’t care and I changed some stuff to suit my story as well, cos that's the joy of fanfic. So just relax and enjoy the story (this message exists because of hate mail I’ve gotten for other fanfics I’ve written.)- Kunte is the Danish dialect of old Norse Kunta, which is the ancestor of the word cunt, meaning female genitals.  - I’m using ‘wenches’ to mean sex workers of all genders





	1. Part 1

 

She clawed her way up the steep muddy banks, her nails breaking down to the quick, her hair plastered to her face, skin scraping and bleeding as she frantically freed herself from the current.

The ocean met the Brena River here and the currents were deadly. 

Behind her a ship was burning, two ships left behind to watch the sailors die, while another headed towards the shore to ensure they got everyone. 

She wiped her hair off her face, leaving a smear of mud on her forehead, accentuating the scar in her left eyebrow; left from a long ago swipe at her head.  Only her speed had stopped her head from being cleaved open. 

She looked back at the burning ship.  A pang gripped her heart and she hoped desperately that he’d made it out alive somehow. 

She’d only made it this far because she’d jumped overboard before the other ships had caught up with them. 

She had to keep moving.

They were coming for her.

She staggered and scrambled up the steep shoreline, trying to put as much distance between the Isle of Stirk and herself as possible – and as quickly as possible.

Finally the land evened out, tall grass would give her some good cover, and-

SNAP!

She screamed in complete silence, falling to the floor, her hands going to her ankle where a bear trap had snapped viciously around her foot.  She gritted her teeth and tried to make herself be silent as tears started in her eyes, her body panting furiously with fear and pain. 

She tried to think, tried to see what to do…

The bear trap was attached to a tree trunk with a chain.

She pulled at the chain with all her considerable strength.

It didn’t budge.

The tree was large and old, and the chain was thick and strong. 

She looked down at the bloody mess where the ragged jaws of the trap had sliced through her flesh, scraping against the bone, maybe even breaking it, and tried not to think of the pain.

She took a deep breath, humming softly to herself in a monotone to force her mind to focus on calm stillness and not on the pain.

Her trainer - her sister, had taught her that. 

And then the skies opened up.  Violently.

Rain splatted down on her, washing away the mud and blood.

She dug her fingers in under the bear trap and pulled the jaws apart.

It took all her strength, but slowly… inch by inch… she pulled it far enough open to release her foot. 

The trap snapped shut, nearly taking her fingers with it, and she collapsed back on the floor; letting her breath come back to her, staring up at the heavens.

It was a dark night, and the storm had covered the moons; she still had a chance…

Even though her wound was not only going to slow her down, but leave a blood trail for the dogs to follow.  She still had a chance.

She looked back at the river and sighed; water was her best bet.  She could move faster, and the dogs would have a harder time smelling her.

But the currents where too violent.  She’d never swim-

There was a light on the river.  Not on the shore.  On the actual river.

A boat?

She tried to get to her feet and instantly regretted it.

The ankle was definitely broken.

She tore off a piece of her tunic and tied it tightly around her ankle, gritting her teeth and forcing herself to remain silent. 

Then with real vitriol and determination, she stood and dragged herself down to the water, tripping, stumbling and rolling down the last few metres, hitting her head hard on the way.

By chance, luck… blessings from the Gods… she landed near the boat.

She was groggy, barely able to maintain consciousness, but she made herself crawl as quietly as she could to the boat, now pulled up on the shore.

It was an odd looking boat, but her head was swimming, and she knew she was close to losing consciousness.  So she paid no attention to the strangeness of the vessel and instead made sure no one could see her. 

She took a moment to look at the owner of the boat; an older woman stood on the shore cutting some herbs and putting them in a satchel on her hip. The older woman looked up at the sky and swore to herself, pulling her hooded robes closer around her.  She could tell it was an older woman, even though she couldn’t see her face, by the way she moved and the sound of her voice as she hummed a tune and swore at the weather.

She found some bear pelts in the back of the small boat, covered with a leather tarp to keep the water out.  She pulled herself in amongst them, making sure she was well hidden, and instantly passed out. 

 

***

 

There was a soft bubbling noise.

And a crackling roar.

A smell… familiar?

Warmth.

Comfort.

And then blurry light as she opened her eyes.

She was lying in a bed, covered with warm blankets, a strong fire in the hearth was the source of light, and the roaring cackle. 

And above it was a large black pot, the older woman was stirring something, bubbling away.

The older woman hadn’t noticed that she was awake, so she took a moment to assess her situation, to check her body for pain…

But she felt fine.

She rolled her feet around, waiting for the pain…

But nothing.

Slowly, she sat up and took in the small cottage. 

She could see that they were somewhere mountainous through the window. 

She took a deep steadying breath and allowed herself to feel thankful that she’d somehow managed to get away from the coastline.

She looked out the other window and saw the strange boat…

Only there were wheels attached to the sides of it now, and a yoke.

Beyond the boat / cart was two beautiful horses, eating hay and clearly still sweating from a hard run. 

“You’re in the Jerall Mountains dear.”  The old woman croaked without turning around.  “I’ve done a decent job of healing your wounds.  You’re quite safe.”  She said as she scooped some of the concoction she was making into a bowl and turned to the younger woman.  “For now.”  She added with an enigmatic smile.  “I saw the ship put anchor just off the coast.”  She continued.  “Dozens of angry men came ashore on boats,” The old woman handed the bowl to her, “Looking for you.”  She said knowingly. 

“Thank you for-”

“Oh I’d never turn you over to them, Dovahkiin.”  She answered and scooped the rest of the soup into a large vial.

“What…?”

“Oh… that’s just… a term of endearment dear.”  She answered.  “It’s probably best you leave Cyrodiil.”  She continued, “Drink your soup.”  She added, nodding towards the bowl in her hands. 

“Thanks.”  She put the bowl to her lips, feeling uneasy at the way the older woman watched. 

“The border to Skyrim isn’t far from here, but due to the civil war they’ve tightened the border.  You may have to cross illegally, through the mountains.”

“I wasn’t planning on going to Skyrim.”  She took another sip of soup, “I was thinking Hammerfell.”

“Oh too much desert.”  The old woman scoffed.

“But I’d fit in there.”

“I think Skyrim will surprise you.”  The old woman answered sagely.  “And besides that’s where-” She stopped and smiled suddenly, “But my mouth is getting away from me, and you are tired and hungry, and need time to heal.” 

“I feel fine.”

“But you haven’t finished your soup.  And you really do need to.”

“Who are you?”  She lowered the bowl, her eyes narrowing with suspicion.

“I’m a friend.”  The older woman responded.  “And you’re right in suspecting that the soup is more than just a meal.”  Quite suddenly she whipped a dagger out and sliced along the younger woman’s arm.  It was a shallow cut, but barely before she’d had time to respond to the sudden attack, the wound itched slightly and started to heal. 

The younger woman stared at the healing wound with shock.

“Now eat your soup.”  The older woman answered the silence. 

“But…?  How…?”  The younger woman stammered. 

“The soup has permanently altered your body’s ability to heal itself.”  The older woman answered.  “It’ll help.”  She added, “It can’t save your life if the wound is grave enough… but it can heal most wounds.  Even Dragon fire, although that takes a bit more time than a shallow dagger cut.”  She gave a pleased smile as the younger woman started to drink the soup again, “With that soup, all you need to do is give yourself time and your body can heal from anything; even coming back from the brink of death... assuming the initial attack doesn’t kill you – you can heal from most anything with just a short amount of time to rest.”

“I can’t repay you for this.  I have nothing…”

“There is no need for payment dear.”  The old woman got up, “Like I said; I’m a friend.”  She went to the window and looked out.  “It’ll be nightfall soon; you should go as soon as night comes.  The men searching for you are not far away.”  She turned back to the younger woman.  “I’ll keep an eye on you from a distance, and help as I can.”

“Thank you.”  The younger woman answered again, not sure what to make of all of this.

“There are some difficult times ahead, Dovahkiin.”  The old woman sat in a chair by the window, “And you will need to make all the friends you can… unexpected friends, friends you find… distasteful…”  She obviously found this amusing, “Friends with opposing views… Friends from all walks of life… you will need to have many friends if you are to overcome all that lays before you… and to reach the true measure of what you can achieve.”

“Can you see my future?”

“Oh dear… I’m just a friend.”  She gave another enigmatic smile, “Giving friendly advice.”

 

***

 

Her head was still circling around all the things the old woman had whispered to her all night; some of it useful, some of it half remembered, some of it half forgotten, some of it making no sense, some of it alarming.

She tried to quiet her mind as her trainer had taught her and sneak along as quietly as she could.

She had already taken a quick look at the official border crossing; it was closed.  People approaching it were being shot at.  She had watched a young Wood Elf limping away, an arrow sticking out of his thigh, his cries of pain filling the woody, rocky valley. 

She snuck through the woods, noting the guards from both sides of the border, sneaking along in the darkness, trying to catch people like her.  Mostly it was people leaving Skyrim, fleeing the civil war.  But there were some people trying to get into Skyrim too. 

In the end, she’d decided to go to Skyrim because the boats leaving from Windhelm or Solitude could take her anywhere in Tamriel.  Now she just had to get to either one of those places and she’d be set.

And she’d somehow have to pay for her passage on one of the ships.

She had been considering how best to make money.

But she took a deep breath and quieted her mind again; it was dangerous to have a loud, messy mind when one was attempting to covertly, illegally, cross the border.

But her mind would not be still.

Her thoughts turned to the old woman.  Why had she helped?  There was no reason for her to help.  And who was she?

“HALT!”

Her heart stopped in her chest and instantly she turned to run.

And she ran straight into two imperial guards, one of whom smacked her violently to the ground, while 3 other guards appeared and trained their arrows on her.

“To your feet.”  Said a gruff voice as she was pulled to her feet. 

“You’ll answer for your crime.”  Another said as her hands were tightly tied in front of her and she was shoved forward. 

“I’m a citizen!”  She said hurriedly, “Trying to return home!”

“Shut it!” 

She was smashed hard on the head and knew no more.

 

***

 

A soft rhythmic motion rocked her to consciousness. 

She opened her eyes and looked around.

There were 3 men in the horse drawn cart with her. 

They were surrounded by Imperial soldiers on their horses; a convoy of prisoner carts.

Was she back in Cyrodiil?  Imperials lived in Cyrodiil… Skyrim was full of Nords. 

The feel of the wheels bounding on the rough road beneath her, jolted her spine, and now that she was still she noticed how the cold was biting through her ragged clothes. 

She looked around at the men in the cart with her; all Nord.  Across from her sat a man with straw-blond shoulder length hair with a plait in it; in true Nord style.  He was mildly attractive even though he bore a guarded face.  He had a short, well-kept goatee and a well-muscled frame.  He wore armour with blue trimmings, but his weapon holders were empty and his hands were as tightly bound as hers were. 

Next to him was a man with short, shaggy brown hair.  He was dirtier, more unkempt; his clothing was more ragged with holes frayed through at the knees, but his expression was far more worried than the resigned expression on the blonde’s face.  He had the haggard look of a hunted animal.  His hands were tied as well.

Before she had chance to look at the man sitting next to her, the blond man spoke.

“Hey you… you’re finally awake.”  He noted and the man beside him gave an unimpressed look; after all he was stating the obvious.  “You were trying to cross the border right?”  He asked. 

She nodded but couldn’t think of what to say to him. 

“Walked right into that Imperial ambush.”  He continued while the other two men both sat silently.  “Same as us.  And that thief over there.”  He nodded towards the man sitting next to him.

“Damn Stormcloaks.”  The thief practically spat at the blond.  “Skyrim was doing just fine until you came along.” 

She took in the animosity between the two men and then looked at the man sitting next to her. 

He had different clothing on; more regal, and his copper brown hair was more kempt; the plaits more fine.  But the most striking thing about him was that they had bound his mouth tightly with a gag. 

She narrowed her eyes, wondering why they had taken this extraordinary measure for this one man. 

He turned to look at her, his eyes filled with a deep fire that burned into her soul. 

This was a dangerous man of deep conviction.  A man that would shake the world to its core to get what he wanted – to get what he believed in, to fulfil what he thought was right. 

He was a little intimidating and she had to make herself not pull away from him.

“Empire was nice and lazy.”  The thief was saying.  “If they hadn’t been looking for you, I could’ve stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell.”

The blond shook his head and looked away with disgust.

“You there.”  The thief said to her.  “You and me; we shouldn’t be here.  It’s these Stormcloaks the Empire wants.”

But she had no idea what he was talking about.  She knew Skyrim was in civil war, and she supposed that this had something to do with it. 

“We’re all brothers and sisters in binds now.”  The blond replied.

“Shut up back there!”  the driver called back to them. 

“What’s wrong with him?”  The thief ignored the driver and stared at the man with the gagged mouth. 

“Watch your tongue!”  The blond snapped.  “You’re speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak!”

She turned to look at him again.  From what she could gather, the Stormcloaks were half of this civil war, and with a name like Ulfric Stormcloak, this man was obviously very important in all of this. 

“The true High King!”  The blond was continuing.

And now she knew she was in very deep trouble.  If she was in a prisoner convoy with the leader of the Stormcloaks, who she figured must be the rebellion movement against the Empire, then this group of prisoners was most likely going to be executed.

She took a deep breath and tried to calm herself.

And then she almost laughed; all that talk from the old woman.  Yeah – some big future she had: a noose, or a chopping block. 

She barely heard them still talking as she fought with her panic. 

“Ulfric?”  The thief seemed to be coming to the same realisation that she had just come to.  “The Jarl of Windhelm?”  His voice wavered with fear.  “You’re the leader of the rebellion.”  His voice was accusatory, “But if they captured you… Oh Gods… Where are they taking us?”  He looked around frantically, trying to get his bearings. 

“I don’t know where we’re going.”  The blond answered, “But Sovngarde awaits.” 

A memory from sneaking into her father’s massive library at night, reading all his books by candlelight returned to her.  Sovngarde was the Nord afterlife for warriors.  She had read about it.

She tried to swallow down her fear and say a prayer to the Gods, but she had never really been much of a believer. 

“No this can’t be happening?”  The thief pleaded with no one.  “This isn’t happening!” 

“Hey…”  The blond said kindly, “What village are you from horse thief?” 

“Why do you care?”  The thief shot back.

“A Nord’s last thoughts should be of home.”  The blond answered.

But she had no home to think of.  She had left that place; gladly, desperately clawing her way through the mud and bear traps… only to be caught like this.

Her brothers would be furious that it hadn’t been them to capture her and drag her home to face their father’s punishment. 

But her father would not mourn her death; she was worthless to him in the grand scheme of things. 

She didn’t want these to be her last thoughts.

“Rorikstead.”  The thief answered the blonde, “I’m from Rorikstead.”

“General Tullius sir, the headsman is waiting!”  Someone called out. 

She felt herself shaking with fear as they neared a walled township. 

“Good.  Let’s get this over with.” 

She tried to look around, to feel the sun on her face one last time, to smell the fresh pine scent of the trees; to find some joy in the short amount of time she had left. 

“Shor, Mara, Dibella, Kynareth, Akatosh, Divines, please help me!”  The thief prayed to the Gods. 

“Look at him.”  The blond said in disgust as their cart pulled past the gates and into the township, people were out on their balconies watching, following the carts.  “General Tullius, the military governor and it looks like the Thalmor are with him.  Damned Elves.  I bet they had something to do with this.”

General Tullius looked uncomfortable with the haughty looking Elves standing around him. 

She turned to look and see the village, simple houses, simple hard-working folk by the look of it.  The people of the village were all Nords.  A Nord village.  So she’d made it to Skyrim then. 

“This is Helgen.”  The blond said sadly.  “I used to be sweet on a girl from here.”  He reminisced, “I _wonder if Vilod is still making that mead with Juniper Berries_ mixed in.”  He looked around, “Funny, when I was a boy, Imperial walls and towers used to make me feel so safe.” 

She was barely listening, she was watching the people.  Some were staring at the prisoners; obviously hoping not to see missing loves ones amongst their ranks.  Some looked disgusted by the prisoners, others looked disgusted by the Imperials.  This was a very divided town. 

She saw a boy on the veranda of his home.

“Who are they daddy?  Where are they going?”  She heard him ask.  She saw the fearful look on his father’s face as he shooed the boy inside. 

“Go inside now.”

“Why? I want to watch the soldiers.”

“Inside the house.  Now.”  His father insisted. 

“Yes papa.”  The boy sounded disappointed as he got up and went inside.

“Whoa….”  The driver slowed their horses down.

“Get these prisoners out of the cart!”  A woman’s voice commanded.

“Why are we stopping?”  The thief panicked. 

“Why do you think?”  The blond was resigned, brave in the face of his impending death.  She took heart in that, even as she saw the other prisoners being herded out of their carts.  “End of the line.”  The blond raised his chin resolutely as the cart jolted to a stop.  “Let’s go,” He said as he looked up at her, “Shouldn’t keep the Gods waiting for us.”

“No!  Wait!”  The thief tried to reason with the Imperial guards, “We’re not rebels!” 

She felt as if her bladder might give way, or her legs.  But the shaking had stopped, and that blessed calm her sister had taught her was washing over her.  She’d always known she’d die young.  But she had expected it to be sudden, in training, in battle – at the end of a sword.  Not like this…

“Face your death with some courage thief.”  The blond said as the thief jumped from the back of the cart. 

She stood up as Ulfric jumped off the cart.  She got off the cart behind Ulfric, the blond jumping down behind her.  She was painfully aware that these were the last few steps, the last few breaths she’d ever take.  She tried to take in every sight, sound and smell…

She had 2 regrets.  One, that she hadn’t had more sex in her life… and two, that she hadn’t fled that damned island and her father much sooner. 

“You’ve got to tell them!”  The thief was pleading with the blond Stormcloak soldier, “We weren’t with you!  This was a mistake!” 

“Step towards the block when we call your name.  One at a time!”  The female captain ordered the prisoners. 

“Empire loves their damn lists.”  The blond muttered.

She looked around at the gathering crowds and saw the chopping block. 

Her stomach felt like lead.  She couldn’t imagine being able to make herself walk up to that block… but she didn’t want to be dragged there. 

“Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm.”  Called a man, a Nord by the looks of him, checking names off the list. 

“It’s been an honour, Jarl Ulfric!”  The blond said as Ulfric stepped forward and took his place in the line. 

The man looking at his list faltered and then looked up at the blond Stormcloak.  He obviously knew this prisoner.

“Hadvar.”  The blond mumbled. 

“Ralof of Riverwood.”  Hadvar called, struck by seeing his friend on the list of condemned, and on the other side of the civil war.  The blond Stormcloak named Ralof, stepped forward without a word, without even looking at Hadvar, his head held high, to take his place in the line to be executed.  Hadvar watched him the whole way, before looking back down at his list, pausing for a moment before continuing.  “Lokir of Rorikstead.”  Hadvar continued, getting himself together. 

“No!”  The thief was terrified.  “I’m no rebel!”  He yelled at them, “You can’t do this!” 

And he ran. 

He ran as fast as his legs could carry him, his hands bound before him.

“HALT!”  The captain roared.

But Lokir, the thief from Rorikstead kept running. 

“You’re not going to kill me!”  He yelled as he fled. 

“Archers.”  The captain’s voice was stern, commanding, and unmoved. 

An arrow shot out from the line of archers. 

Lokir fell to the ground tumbling over himself and then moved no more. 

“Anyone else feel like running?”  She asked.  The captain looked at Hadvar and nodded for him to continue.  He looked down at his list and then back up at her, who had fled the horrors of home only to be find herself about to end up on the chopping block.

“Wait…”  He looked down at his list; there were no more names.  “You there.”  He pointed at her, “Step forward.  Who are you?” 

“Saadia.”  She said softly. 

“What're you doing here, Redguard?”  He asked sympathetically, “You a sellsword?”  She shook her head, “A sailor from Stros M'Kai?”  Again she shook her head, not knowing how to answer.

“I’m half Nord.”  She said, hoping that this would change something, but realising that most of the people about to be executed were full-blooded Nords. 

“Well then, you picked a bad time to come home to Skyrim, kinsman.”  He told her, “Captain, what should we do?”  He turned to the captain imploringly, “She’s not on the list.”

“Forget the list!”  She snapped in reply, “She goes to the block!”

“By your orders, Captain.”  He answered unhappily but resolutely, “I'm sorry.  At least you'll die here, in your homeland.”  He looked down and shook his head slightly.  He obviously didn’t agree with her execution.  “Or would you prefer your remains be returned to Hammerfell?”

“Just burn them.”  Saadia answered, “There’s no one that’ll want them.”

He looked pained by that but covered it by looking back down at his list, and then to the captain.

“Follow the Captain, prisoner.”  He said without making eye contact. 

Saadia followed the captain to the line of condemned prisoners.  Her knees were shaking, but somehow, even through all this fear, she still managed to put one foot in front of the other and to hold her head high. 

When she joined the other condemned prisoners, Tullius was standing in front of Ulfric Stormcloak, his eyes narrowed in disgust.  Tullius was a grey-haired man, hardened by war, cynical, but still filled with hope for the Empire. 

“Ulfric Stormcloak.”  He was clearly happy to have finally caught Ulfric, “Some here in Helgen call you a hero.”  Tullius looked around at the crowd, “But a hero doesn't use a power like The Voice to murder his King and usurp his throne.”  Tullius said in a damning tone. 

Ulfric made a muffled grunt in reply.  And even with his mouth gagged, his contempt for the whole proceedings was obvious; it practically dripped off him. 

“You started this war, plunged Skyrim into chaos, and now the Empire is going to put you down, and restore the peace.”  Tullius said triumphantly. 

A distant screeching roar pierced the stillness and everyone suddenly looked around.

Hadvar snapped his eyes to the sky.

“What was that?”  He asked, searching for the source of a sound he’d never heard before today. 

“It’s nothing.”  Tullius said.  “Carry on.”  There was an urgency to his tone; he wanted Ulfric dead. 

“Yes General Tullius.”  The captain, eager to please, snapped out her response, “Give them their last rites.”  She ordered a priestess.

But Saadia was still looking at the sky as the priestess of Arkay spoke.

“As we commend your souls to Aetherius,” She spoke slowly, calmly, “blessings of the Eight Divines upon you, for you are the salt and earth of Nirn, our beloved-”

“For the love of Talos!”  An exasperated Stormcloak soldier proclaimed; even in death, they were not to be granted last rites that were fitting to their beliefs, “shut up and let's get this over with.”  He stormed up to the block and looked around at them all, a challenge in his eyes. 

“As you wish.”  The priestess of Arkay was affronted, but she acquiesced nevertheless.  She understood their sentiment. 

“Come on, I haven't got all morning!”  The Stormcloak soldier said, waiting for the captain to come and press his face against the chopping block.  She came up behind him and pushed him to his knees, using her foot on his back to push him all the way down.  “My ancestors are smiling at me, Imperials.”  He said as the executioner prepared his axe, “Can you say the same-?”

The thunk was loud and violent and his head rolled away with an almost obscene silence. 

Saadia swallowed hard, the calmness leaving her, the terror returning. 

Blood spurted from his neck, the head moved about in the basket where it had fallen – she couldn’t take her eyes off it.

She had seen many people killed before, but never when she knew it was also going to happen to her – and there was nothing she could do about it.

She took a deep breath as all around her the crowd erupted as the body slumped to the ground.

“YOU IMPERIAL BASTARDS!”  A Stormcloak prisoner screamed.

“JUSTICE!”  Ralof noticed that it was old Vilod crying that out and felt let down; memories are always better than reality.  He sighed. 

Saadia noticed that Ulfric also didn’t take his eyes from the dead Stormcloak soldier.  He appeared calm, even though his death was imminent. 

“DEATH TO THE STORMCLOAKS!”  A woman screeched.  Ralof knew her name was Ingrid. 

“As fearless in death as he was in life.”  Ralof said of his fallen comrade.

Saadia turned to look at him and felt a deep sympathy for him; this was no way for any of them to die. 

“Next, the Redguard!”  The captain called out. 

Saadia felt her heart lurch, but somehow she kept her feet.

And the roar shattered the air again; less distant this time. 

Everyone ignored it, but Saadia looked up.

“There it is again.”  Hadvar said, “Did you hear that?”  His voice was more urgent now. 

“I said next prisoner.”  The captain resolutely ordered; she would follow out her orders regardless of external factors like this.

“To the block, prisoner.”  Hadvar said softly, “Nice and easy.”  He tried to soothe. 

Saadia was tempted to try and fight back.  But without a weapon, against a well-trained army… she stood little chance.

She walked to the block.

As she stood before it, Hadvar stood opposite her, his eyes meeting hers; they were filled with regret.  He didn’t like these executions; that much was obvious.  But there was also resolution; he thought they were necessary. 

She looked down at the block, and somehow managed to calmly kneel.

… And put her head on the bloody wood.

She felt a strange sense of dread unlike anything she’d ever known.  And a deep revulsion that her face should be plastered in the warm remains of a now dead man, her face only inches away from his severed head. 

She looked up at the executioner in his black mask and took a deep breath.

And the roar again.  Even closer than the last two times. 

Saadia looked up into the bright sky one last time, and saw a massive outline block out the light. 

“What…?”  She breathed.

The executioner prepared his axe.

“What in Oblivion is that?”  Tullius roared.

The executioner raised the axe above his head.

“Sentries – what do you see?”  The captain asked.

“It’s in the clouds!”  An Imperial soldier called out.

The executioner started to bring the axe down as a huge black Dragon landed on the keeps tower behind him.

“DRAGON!”  A Stormcloak soldier yelled.

A blazing storm of molten rocks rained down on them and the executioner screamed in agony as Saadia rolled away, the liquid fire burning her shoulder and back agonisingly, her head swimming as she fought to keep consciousness. 

She saw the executioner melt, screaming the whole time, while chaos erupted around her, but the images were hazy, the light dimming.  The pain in her back and shoulders was increasing.

“Don't just stand there!  Kill that thing!”  Tullius cried. 

“What in the 8 divines is this thing?”  An imperial soldier cried as he tried to aim his bow and arrow at it.

“KEEP YOUR EYES ON IT!”

“Guards, get the townspeople to safety!”  Tullius ordered.

All around her people were fleeing, crying in fear and pain…

“Hey Redguard,” Ralof said as he pulled her to her feet, “Get up!  Come on, the Gods won't give us another chance!”

“How in Oblivion do we kill this thing?”  Saadia heard a Stormcloak soldier asking an Imperial as Ralof pulled her away from the fire.

“THIS WAY!”  He said.  They ran across the open ground towards the keep tower as the Dragon circled overhead, raining down fire on everyone it saw.

“IT’S STILL COMING!” 

Terror, fire, arrows…

And screams.  Screams that would never leave her. 

Ralof pulled her into Helgen keep.

“Jarl Ulfric, what is that thing?”  Ralof asked as he slumped against the wall and looked down at his burned forearm.  Ulfric was a raggedly handsome man, battle hardened, scarred and even more intimidating without his gag.

Saadia didn’t want to fall under his gaze so she focussed her attention on her shoulders and back; burning ferociously with pain, but the itch had already started.  She thought again of the old woman in the mountain cottage and actually did laugh slightly.  But she quickly reigned that in by remembering just where she was and just what was stalking them outside of the keeps tower. 

“Could the legends be true?”  Ralof was asking.

“Legends don't burn down villages.”  Ulfric answered, looking around at his men as a man tended to their wounds

“They’re hurt.”  The soldier told Ulfric “But they'll live.  Another second out there with the Dragon, and they'd both be dead...”

The Dragon roared outside – it was so close…

“We need to move.  Now!”  Ulfric told them, helping a wounded soldier to her feet. 

“Up through the tower!”  Ralof said, pushing Saadia ahead of him, “Let’s go!”

They ran up the stairs, Saadia having no idea what they’d do once they got to the top of the tower.

But the giant black Dragon bashed through the wall of the tower right in front of her, bricks flying everywhere, hitting her painfully, the Dragon’s angry red eyes searching, finding them.

“YOL…”

And Saadia felt a strange tingling inside of her… like she could understand the Dragon…

“TOOR…”

She could hear words in his fiery roars…

“SHUL!”  Fire erupted from the Dragon’s mouth, incinerating several Stormcloaks, but leaving Saadia with a strange sensation rippling under her skin. 

The Dragon was speaking… shouting… and she could hear the words… The words, somehow, produced the fire.

The Dragon flew away, circling overhead, raining down fire on the cottages. 

“We just need to move some of these rocks to clear the way!"  A Stormcloak said as they saw the now ruined tower above them.

But Ralof was there, looking at the gap the Dragon had left in the wall.

“See the inn on the other side?”  He pointed it out to her, “Jump through the roof and keep going!”  Saadia hesitated, “Go!  We'll follow when we can!”  He turned back to his wounded comrades, Jarl Ulfric barking orders.

Saadia jumped across to the other building and searched for a way down to the ground level.  She wanted to get to the main building of the keep; its squat stone structure should provide more safety than the tower had, or this wooden building for that matter. 

“BY YSMIR!  NOTHING KILLS IT!”  She heard someone cry out.

The inn was on fire, collapsing around her as she ran through it, dropping through the floor to get to the ground level.

When she got there Hadvar was calling out to the little boy that had so desperately wanted to watch the soldiers.

They were all out in the open, and the Dragon was circling overhead.

“HAMLING!  YOU NEED TO GET OVER HERE NOW!”  He held his hand out towards a boy, crying over the burned body of his father; he was still moving, still fighting to live... “TOROLF!”  He called out to Hamling’s father.

But the Dragon landed behind the boy.  Hadvar cried out for him again, and the boy ran for his life, his dying father left behind. 

“YOL… TOOR… SHUL!” 

Saadia heard the Dragon again.

Torolf was consumed by flames – screaming in agony.

“Gods…”  Hadvar whispered in horror, “EVERYONE GET BACK!”

They all ran to the cover of the inn’s outer wall and Saadia joined them.

“Still alive prisoner?”  Hadvar asked when he saw her.  “Keep close to me if you want to stay that way.”  He told her and turned to a villager, “Gunnar take care of that boy!  I have to find General Tullius and join the defence.”  He said and Gunnar, an elderly man with a glass eye, nodded and put a protective hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“DIE!  FOR THE LOVE OF THE GODS D-”  Someone screamed on the other side of the village, the sound of the Dragon’s fire stopping their voice.

“Gods guide you Hadvar.”  The old man said before Hadvar grabbed Saadia and ran out into the open again, towards the keep, leaving the old man and the young boy in the cover of the burning inn. 

“Stay close to the wall.”  Hadvar ordered Saadia as he looked around to try and get sight of the Dragon.

Saadia felt a strange thrumming in the air, as if a great drum were being beaten and the air itself was the skin of this drum…

She turned around to see the Dragon land on the wall above her. 

“KEEP YOUR EYES ON IT!”  It was the captain’s voice. 

Arrows darkened the air all around her, but nothing pierced the scaly hide of the Dragon.

“YOL… TOOR… SHUL!” 

And fire filled the air again, just as Hadvar pulled her back.  Others had not been so quick and their screams filled the air.

“Quickly!  Follow me!”  He said as they snaked through the burning homes of dying villagers, the Dragon again taking flight to hunt them down. 

“HADVAR!”  Tullius roared, “Into the keep soldier!  We’re leaving!”  He ordered as he pointed at soldiers to help injured villagers towards the keep.  He ordered others onto the walls to try and keep the Dragon at bay while they got the villagers safely inside.

“It’s you and me prisoner, stay close!”  Hadvar said as they made a run for the keep across more open land.

But Ralof blocked their path. 

The Dragon circled, villagers screamed, soldiers died.

The Stormcloaks were heading towards the gate of the town – towards freedom, with Ulfric tightly protected in their ranks.  There was blood on the swords they had stolen from Legion soldiers.  Hadvar shook his head; disgusted that even in the face of a Dragon, they could not find any unity.  Saadia couldn’t see any of the injured soldiers she’d seen before, nor any of the villagers amongst their ranks; the villagers, it seemed, were the Legion’s problem.  Only the Stormcloak soldiers that were fit enough to hold a weapon were here.  And all of them were protecting Ulfric. 

“Ralof!”  Hadvar cried out, “You damned traitor!  Out of my way!” 

Ralof eyed them both; he had no interest in fighting his once close friend. 

“We’re escaping Hadvar.”  He said, “You’re not stopping us this time.”

“Fine.”  His disappointment in Ralof was palpable, “I hope that Dragon takes you all to Sovngarde.”

Ralof beckoned for Saadia to follow him towards the gate and the freedom of the forest beyond, but Hadvar pulled her away towards the barracks section of the keep.

“Quick, I can cut you lose, inside the keep!”  He said. 

Saadia followed him, looking over her shoulder at Ralof as he shook his head and went his own way towards the gate, a large group of Stormcloaks with him. 

“Hin sil fen nahkip bahloki.” 

Saadia looked back at the Dragon, feeling like she could almost understand its words.  It was saying something to them… she had no doubt of that. 

They went through the wooden door to the barracks, and had finally found the relative safety of the keep.

“Looks like were’ the only ones who made it.”  Hadvar said as they looked around the deserted room.  “Was that really a Dragon?  The bringer of end times?”  He was in shock. 

“That was definitely a Dragon.”  Saadia answered, her own shock becoming more manageable now that she had a moment to breathe. 

She could hear the Dragon rampaging outside; they still had to get out of Helgen alive.  Hadvar looked up as grit and dust crumbled from the ceiling; the Dragon had landed on the roof, and it very obviously was struggling to take the Dragon’s weight. 

“We should keep moving.”  He said, his eyes on the ceiling.  “Come here, let me see if I can get those bindings off.”  He cut her hands free.  “There you go.”  He said as she rubbed her wrists.  “Take a look around for some gear.  I’m going to see if I can find something for these burns.”  He started to search the first room of the barracks. 

Saadia took a breath and tried to get her bearings. 

There were low quality beds, chests and shelves for soldiers in this room.  There had to be some kind of weapons or armour here she could use.

She looked over at Hadvar, he had some bad burns on his arms and legs.  She suddenly realised that they were going to take a long time to heal… But the pain in her burns was already subsiding. 

She really hadn’t thanked that old woman nearly enough.

She put that from her mind and started to search the room.

“There must be a sword or 2 in one of these chests.”  Hadvar muttered.

The Dragon roared again outside and they both looked up at the ceiling.

“I’ll be as quick as possible.”  Saadia answered, and started turning over mattresses, looking under beds, in chests, even behind bookshelves…

For all her searching, she found some Imperial armour, a helmet, some boots, 3 iron swords – 1 of which she gave to Hadvar since his sword had been lost in the chaos, a book she thought she might be able to sell, 13 gold coins, a bottle of wine, and the key to the keep.

She emptied out the bottle of wine and filled it with water from the barracks water supply, dripping into a large bowl in the room through the use of an ingenious cistern and piping system. 

She took the sword and swung it a few times.  It wasn’t too badly weighted, and she thought she’d be able to manage very nicely with it.  Although she’d still prefer something heavier than this lightweight thing.  She was a big woman, and she liked big weapons. 

As soon as Hadvar had roughly bandaged up his wounds, he headed for the door. 

“That thing’s still out there.  We have to go.”  He said as he pulled the chain to open the door.

They ran through the keeps winding hallways without looking into the side rooms until they came to a central chamber.  Inside they could hear people talking.

“We have to keep moving.  That Dragon’s tearing up the whole keep!”

“Do you hear that?”  Hadvar whispered to her.  “Stormcloaks.”  He said as he sneaked a look through the door, “Maybe we can reason with them?”  He said hopefully. 

He stepped into the room with his hands held up in a gesture of peace.  His sword sheathed, but his shield still in his hand.  Somehow he’d managed to keep hold of that in all the fire and chaos of the Dragon attack. 

“Friends…”  He said, “Fellow Nords, we-”

“KILL HIM!”  One of the Stormcloaks cried and they attacked. 

Now this was something Saadia was more accustomed to.  She swung her sword at the first man’s head, killing him in one blow and ducking the axe aimed at her head from the second man.  Hadvar rammed his shield into the third Stormcloak soldier and blocked her sword strike with his own sword.

Saadia wanted that nice double handed axe. 

The Stormcloak holding it, clearly didn’t have proper control of it; he wasn’t strong enough to wield such a big, heavy weapon.  He’d obviously found it in the keep and claimed it, even though it was above his skill level. 

He swung at Saadia and she dodged again; he was too slow.  She easily stepped past him, spun as she went to her knees and sliced open his unprotected calves. 

She jumped to her feet as he went down; the muscles of his legs so severely damaged they could no longer hold him up.  She slashed his throat and reached down to pick up the axe. 

“That’s better.”  She said as she gripped it firmly and felt its weight. 

She turned to see Hadvar and the third Stormcloak fighting a brutal battle.  They were both experts in sword and shield fighting, and fairly evenly matched; Hadvar had the slight advantage with skill. 

Saadia was going to let Hadvar have his battle and probable victory, but a Dragon roar from outside convinced her to stick her foot forward and trip the Stormcloak.

She stumbled, lost concentration momentarily, and that was all Hadvar needed; he rammed his sword through her stomach.  Right through her leather armour. 

She fell to the ground gripping her stomach, destined for a slow death.

“I’ll see if I can get this door open.”  Hadvar said as he sliced her throat to speed up that death. 

He gave the Stormcloaks a last, regretful look, before turning to the jammed door.  Saadia quickly searched the 3 Stormcloaks for anything she might be able to use or sell later on; she was going to need gold to live in this new world she found herself in… assuming the Dragons didn’t destroy everything first of course.  

“Got it!”  Hadvar said triumphantly and a moment later they were both sprinting down the stairs. 

They came out in another hallway, but the roof collapsed just in front of them, the roar of the Dragon accompanying the scream of rocks and metal as they crumbled in on themselves. 

The hallway was blocked. 

“Through here.”  Hadvar said hopefully as he opened a door to the left, “That Dragon doesn’t give up easy.”  He said as they ran into the room, dust and grit falling from the ceiling ominously. 

It was a storage room, and there was a Stormcloak rummaging through the barrels. 

“What are you doing?  We need to get out of Helgen!”  It was another Stormcloak, trying to get his comrade to move.

Saadia didn’t wait, she ran towards them and swung her axe at the first man’s head.  She hit him square on, cleaving his skull in two.

Immediately, she kicked the other Stormcloak in the stomach.  He doubled over and she brought her axe down on his neck, severing his head. 

Hadvar looked at her in surprise for a moment.

“I have fought harder opponents.”  Saadia answered his expression with a shrug. 

“An old storage room.”  He told her, choosing not to comment on her skill and brutality, “See if you can find some potions.”  Hadvar said; his burns were clearly slowing him down.

“Of course.”  She answered and quickly searched the rooms many barrels, drawers, and shelves.  She found some food and a sturdy bag to keep everything she’d found in, as well as some healing potions.  He’d found himself a bow and some arrows.

She tossed 3 of the 4 potions to Hadvar, who gladly swallowed one of them immediately.

“It’s a weak potion, but it helps.”  He said, “Thank you.”  He looked through the next door cautiously, “Alright, let’s go.” 

They came out in another hallway; one way was completely collapsed in, and the other way led downwards.

“Gods,” Hadvar sounded disgusted, shamed, “The torture room.”  His voice was filled guilt, “I wish we didn’t need these.”  He grumbled. 

Saadia said nothing and followed him down into the torture room.

Two Stormcloak soldiers were fighting the jailer, who used a shot of magic electricity from his palm to kill the first Stormcloak while Hadvar stabbed the second one from behind. 

Saadia’s eyes went wide; she’d never seen anything like the magic the jailer had.  But she’d read about it. 

“You two came along at just the right time.  These two boys seemed upset at the hospitality I’ve been showing their comrades.”  The jailer said with an evil grin.

Saadia looked around the room.  Skeletons and half-dead people were chained to the wall, people were caged up, there was blood splattered all over the place, dismembered body parts…

The smell of death, decay and fear in the air. 

It was as repugnant as the jailer / torturer that oversaw this little piece of hell. 

“Don’t you even know what’s going on?’ Hadvar asked him, “A Dragon is attacking Helgen!”

“A Dragon?”  The torturer scoffed, “Please, don’t make up nonsense.”  His tone was so condescending that Saadia had to physically bite her tongue to stop herself from saying something.  “Although come to think of it, I did hear some odd noises coming from over there.”  He said as he looked towards a cage with a feeble, emaciated man in it. 

“Come with us; we have to get out of here.”  Hadvar said.

“You have no authority over me, boy.”  The torturer retorted. 

“Didn’t you hear me?  I said the keep is under attack!”  Hadvar tried to reason with him.

“Forget the old man!”  The torturer’s assistant suddenly spoke up.  “I’m coming with you!” 

“Wait…”  Hadvar looked into one of the cages, “Looks like there’s something in here…”

“Don’t bother.”  The torturer droned, “Lost the key to that ages ago.  Poor fellow screamed for weeks.”  He shrugged. 

Hadvar gave him a dirty look and took a deep breath, biting his tongue.  He turned to Saadia with a tight smile.

“Can you pick the lock?”  He asked.

“I’ll give it a go.”  Saadia had taught herself how to pick the locks in the castle… it had helped her escape.  “I’ll look around for something I can use for a lockpick.”  She said.

She found some more weapons, some armour, gold, lockpicks and a few books.  One called ‘The Dragonborn’ which looked like an interesting read; maybe she’d keep that one. 

She put the lockpick in the keyhole and slowly moved it around, listening closely. 

The lockpick snapped and she took a calming breath and started again, focussing her mind into stillness and silence…

It only took a few moments for her to be through the lock.  Inside the cage was a dead mage, he had potions and a strange book tingling with power. 

Saadia opened it and felt a sudden surge of power through her body.  And the book simply ceased to exist in that moment; its knowledge entirely absorbed by her.  She’d never experienced anything like that before in her life.  But she felt like the books power had been transferred to her somehow. 

She didn’t have time to think about that right now.

Instead she picked the locks on the other prison cells to look for supplies.  Each time she did it, it got easier; she felt like this type of lock was fairly simple and she had it figured out.  She didn’t break anymore lockpicks and she got some more potions and gold for her trouble.

“There’s no way out of here you know.”  The torturer said as they headed through the prison cells. 

But the three of them ran on, into a room were skeletons and rotting bodies were suspended from the ceiling in tiny cages. 

The smell was unbearable.

But up ahead, part of the wall had collapsed to reveal a cave system.

“This way.”  Hadvar said as he carefully stepped through the gap in the crumbling wall.

The executioner’s assistant went through next and Saadia followed, the wall crumbling in on itself even more as they hurried on; the gap now much smaller but still useable.

The torturer’s assistant ran ahead.

“Where in Oblivion are we meant to go?”  He asked, “How do we get out?”

“Just wait!”  Hadvar called after him.

But he rounded the corner to see a room cut into the stone of the cave filled with several Stormcloak soldiers staring at him, Hadvar and Saadia coming to a halt behind him. 

It was a bloody battle that ended with the torturer’s assistant with an arrow through his forearm. 

Both Saadia and Hadvar were unharmed, but bathed in the blood of Stormcloaks. 

The torturer’s assistant seemed unaffected by his injury, but he looked back through the cave tunnel.

“I better go back and see about the old man.”  He sighed.  “I wish you both good luck.”  He pulled the arrow out and headed back through the cave. 

“Strange man.”  Saadia said softly and turned to Hadvar who was staring after the torturer’s assistant.  He shrugged and turned towards a hallway carved into the stone, paved with rough bricks.

“Let’s see where this goes.”  He said and they headed onwards towards a wooden plank bridge, raised so that the gap it usually traversed was unpassable. 

Hadvar pulled a lever nearby and the bridge lowered slowly… and loudly. 

“Every bloody Stormcloak and Dragon in the country will know we’re coming.”  Hadvar grumbled. 

They crossed the bridge at a fast run as soon as it lowered.  It led out into a large cave with an underground stream running through it.

There was a roar – the Dragon… and the tunnel collapsed in behind them, the bridge falling down.

“Well we’re not going back that way.”  Hadvar said as he took in the cave.  “I guess we’re lucky that didn’t come down on top of us.”  He looked on the bright side.

“So lucky.”  Saadia answered in a deadpan voice as the Dragon roared again.  Even if they got out of this cave, there was no guaranteeing that the Dragon wouldn’t hunt them down across the countryside. 

“We better push on.”  Hadvar looked back at the collapsed tunnel.  “I’m sure the others will find another way out.”  He tried to convince himself. 

They headed down into the tunnel, jogging along the shore of the fast flowing stream.

There were a few tunnels heading off to dead ends that they explored, usually there was a skeleton, or nothing, at the end of them, and they’d return to the stream and continue to follow its flow. 

Eventually the stream flowed on under a rock face they couldn’t get under.

It was like a maze, and they searched for a tunnel out of the place for some time before a whiff of cool breeze hit their faces.

“This way.”  Saadia said as they headed down yet another tunnel, only this one had air moving through it. 

At the end of it there was a tunnel covered in cobwebs.

They paused at the opening to the cave and looked around.

Saadia could see massive cocoons filled with people and skeevers, a kind of massive rat like rodent; a spider’s meal… but if the meals were that big – how big were the spiders?

They edged out into the room.

“Frostbite spiders….” Hadvar said as a huge spider descended from the ceiling on a silken thread. 

Saadia hit it with her axe, but it simply continued to attack as more spider descended from the ceiling, and even more scurried across the ground towards them.  These spiders were taller than Saadia was; and she was not short. 

“They’re bigger then I remember.”  Hadvar said as he stabbed one in the eye. 

They spat a gooey, poisonous liquid all over them, Hadvar vomited but immediately took up his sword again.  Saadia felt woozy, and the room spun, but she knew she had to keep fighting or she’d end up in one of those cocoons. 

When the last spider was felled, Hadvar collapsed and pulled out one of his healing potions. 

“What’s next?  Giant snakes?”  He asked and collapsed onto his back.  “Since nobody's trying to kill me just now, maybe we should rest for a minute.” 

Saadia tried to walk it off and explored the cave, finding spider eggs that she put in her bag; maybe someone would buy them.  She was just starting to feel better when Hadvar got to his feet.  They nodded to each other and continued on, downwards into the cave.

They found a waterfall, and another bubbling stream and started to follow it.

This cave showed signs of more Human habitation; a cart had been left on the rough path, some food, wine, coins and weapons left in it. 

“Hold up.”  Hadvar whispered.  “There’s a bear up ahead.”  He pointed the bear out to Saadia.  “I’d rather not tangle with her right now; maybe we can sneak past?”  Saadia watched the sleeping bear for a moment, “Or if you’re feeling lucky, there’s a bow and arrows in the cart, maybe you’ll get in a lucky shot?”  Hadvar continued, “I’ll follow your lead.  I’ve got your back.”  He reassured her.

She looked at Hadvar, injured, sweating and exhausted from the Dragon attack and the running and fighting they’d done…

“We’ll sneak past.”  Saadia answered.  She probably would have fought the bear had it been different circumstances.  But now was not the time.  They could see light up ahead; it looked like the cave might open up to the outside world soon.  They were nearly clear of this… assuming the Dragon wasn’t waiting outside.  Now was the time to play it safe.

They stuck to the side of the cave, in the shadows and crept along as silently as they could.

For all of Saadia’s training, she had to admit that sneaking wasn’t her strongest skill; she’d have to remedy that. 

She kept her eyes on the bear, and looked back to Hadvar occasionally, to make sure he was doing ok, and crept towards the light.

There was a soft jingle of coins in her pocket and the bear awoke and roared, rising onto her hind legs...

They froze in the shadows, holding their breaths while the big bear looked around, not leaving her nest; she was obviously about to birth soon.  She couldn’t see anything in the shadows and settled back down to sleep.

They let out their breaths and gave each other a relieved look before slowly creeping on.

“That was close.”  Hadvar breathed when they got clear of the bear. 

There were animal skeletons all over the place.  Some had obviously been hunted by Humans or Elves, but others had clearly been eaten by a bear, or possibly wolves.

Either way, they’d be glad to get out of this cave.  Saadia longed for the feel of the sun on her face again.

They ran along the cave tunnel, the light becoming brighter, a cold breeze growing stronger.

“This looks like the way out!”  Hadvar exclaimed as the exit to the cave finally came into sight.  “I was starting to wonder if we’d ever make it.”  He said and took a deep breath of the fresh air flowing in. 

They ran out into the light and Saadia was gifted with a beautiful forest view, some distant mountains and a light dusting of snow.

Skyrim truly was beautiful. 

In the distance, they saw the Dragon flying away towards some mountains and they crouched behind some rocks to see if he would come back. 

They scanned the skies tensely, both of them holding their bows, ready to grab an arrow if needed. 

All was still and silent except for the singing of insects and birds.

“Looks like it’s gone for good this time.”  Hadvar said as they came out from behind the rocks.  “But I don’t think we should stick around to see if it comes back.” 

“Agreed.”  Saadia said, her eyes on the mountains they’d seen the beast flying over.  They were distant, but she could see a dark place near their top; ruins of some sort.  Evil looking…

“The closest town to here is Riverwood.”  Hadvar said, drawing her attention back to him, “My uncle’s the blacksmith there; I’m sure he’d help you out.”  Hadvar said as they started to head down the side of the mountain.  It was rocky terrain, but not too steep to manage easily enough for her to be looking at all the beautiful things around her.

“Thank you.”  Saadia said with genuine gratitude; she had expected to be utterly alone when she got here.  But she had made a friend in the most unexpected place; at her own execution.

“It’s probably best if we split up.”  He sounded hesitant, “Good luck.  I wouldn’t have made it without your help today.”  He said as he set out at a jog.

But Saadia had nowhere else to go.  She caught up with him.

“Can I come with you?”  She asked and he gave her a welcoming grin.

“Of course.”  He said, obviously glad she’d decided to join him. 

“I wouldn’t have made it without you either.”  She admitted and he gave her another grin. 

They jogged together, the snow slowly fading away as they got further down the mountain. 

They found a rough path and the going became easier, so Hadvar began to breathe easier.  He looked at her from the corner of his eye.

“Listen,” He said seriously, “You should go to Solitude and join up with the Imperial Legion.  We could really use someone like you.”  He told her.  “And if the rebels have themselves a Dragon, General Tullius is the only one who can stop them.”  Hadvar added earnestly. 

But Saadia wasn’t sure if anyone could stop that Dragon, nor was she sure that the rebels actually had that Dragon.  It looked to her like it was killing pretty indiscriminately. 

But she didn’t say anything and they ran in silence for a while, finding a major road and sticking to it.  They could run faster now; the terrain was smooth and still heading downhill. 

After a while Hadvar stopped and pointed out the crumbling old ruin Saadia had noticed before, only it was much closer now, its features more discernible.  It was carved into the side and top of a mountain across the river; the spires of it reaching up into the sky like a giant twisted hand, the claw like fingers meeting in a point.  But that was only from this angle, from another angle, they looked like the skeleton of a great hall; far greater than any mead hall that currently existed.

It was a dark and ominous sight.

“See that ruin up there?”  Hadvar asked, “Bleak Falls Barrow.  When I was a boy, that place always used to give me nightmares.”  He confessed.  “Draugr creeping down the mountain to climb through my window at night, that kind of thing.”  He shuddered as he looked up at the ruin.  “I admit, I still don’t much like the look of it.” 

“I think it’s giving me nightmares right now.”  Saadia answered sympathetically and they shared a smile before continuing along the path.  “What are draugr?”  She asked after a moment.

“They are undead warriors.”  Hadvar answered ominously, “They are found in many ancient crypts and burial sites.  I don’t know why they are not resting.”  He turned to see Saadia’s face, “I know it sounds like fairy tales.”  He said with a faint smile, “But they are real.  I have seen them.”

Saadia looked back up at the ruins.

“I hope I never meet them then.”  She answered.

“I hope to never see one again.”  Hadvar nodded. 

After a few turns in the path they came across three large stones standing in a clearing by the side of the road, sticking up like the fingers of the earth herself.  But they were carved smooth, with a hole through the top centre, and pictures etched into the sides of them. 

In complete contrast to the ruins of Bleak Falls Barrow, these stones seemed to radiate a kind of calm authority; like they had stood for eons and seen much, knew much… and would impart that wisdom to the worthy. 

But they were just stones…

Saadia looked at them with wonder while Hadvar spoke.

“These are the guardian stones.”  He told her, “three of the thirteen ancient standing stones that dot Skyrim's landscape.”  He encouraged her to touch one of them, to feel its power and guardianship over her; “Go ahead, feel for yourself.”  He urged.  He pointed to the first one, “This is the thief stone, and this is the mage stone.”  He pointed to the last stone and put his hand on it gently, “And this is the warrior stone.”  He explained as he stroked the stone fondly, “They guard you in those aspects of your life and help you grow in strength and skill...  You can only have one guardian at a time.”  He said and stepped back so that she could make a choice.

Saadia didn’t need any time to think about it.  She stepped forward and touched the warrior stone.

She felt a tingle of power in her fingertips; there was a lot of ancient power and magic in Skyrim.  This was becoming increasingly obvious to her. 

She felt like her skills as a warrior would be greatly improved due to this guardian stone, and she didn’t understand why that would be so. 

“Warrior, good!”  Hadvar said happily, “I knew you shouldn't have been on that cart the minute I laid eyes on you.”  He said.  “Come on.”  He said and set off at a fast jog again.  He was clearly exhausted, but he would not stop until they were safe in Riverwood.

Saadia followed without thought; she didn’t know what else to do yet.  The whole day was still catching up with her. 

Really, the whole week was still catching up with her.

Less than 7 days ago she had still been a prisoner on that island… and now?  Now she wasn’t sure what she was, but she was sure she was finally free for the first time in her life.  And that felt good. 

They ran alongside a beautiful roaring river, the birds singing above, the sun shining down.  She was starting to feel elated, despite what she had been through in the past few days. 

She was free.

Skyrim was beautiful.

She was free!

“Listen,” Hadvar pulled her out of her silent revelry, “As far as I’m concerned you’ve already earned your pardon.”  She liked this man; he was an honest man and she could tell that he wore his feelings on his sleeve.  “But until we get that confirmed by General Tullius, just stay clear of other Imperial soldiers and avoid any complications, alright?”

“Of course.”  Saadia answered; she had no intention of drawing attention to herself in any way whatsoever.  She just wanted to blend in and make a peaceful life for herself. 

The river ran over some rapids, and salmon were jumping up them to get to their ancestral spawning grounds, butterflies flitted around, and the river was slowly broadening out into a calm, wide expanse of water. 

She could imagine building herself a nice home around here somewhere. 

Besides having to fight off a pack of wolves (they made short work of them), the rest of the journey was wonderfully uneventful… other than Saadia being in awe of her surroundings.  She was so happy. 

“I’m glad you decided to come with me.”  Hadvar said, “We’re almost to Riverwood.”  He started to tell her tales of growing up there; many of them included Ralof. 

She started to realise just how tragic this civil war was; best friends torn apart.  She felt sad for the love lost between them; there had obviously been a time they had loved each other as brothers.  But Saadia also got the vibe that perhaps there had been more than brotherly love?  She couldn’t tell – she hadn’t yet gotten the full measure of these Nords, so she didn’t know how to read them.  Yet.

She listened to Hadvar’s tales and watched the elk and rabbits darting along in the forest and open plains across the river. 

Eventually the village of Riverwood came into view. 

A beautiful village with a mill, a blacksmith, an inn, a general store and a few homes – wooden cottages with straw thatched rooves, in between the banks of the river and the steep incline of the tallest mountain she’d ever seen and surrounded by tall forests. 

It was simply stunning. 

“Things look quiet enough here.”  Hadvar said as they entered the village, a few people stopping to look at them, but no one stopped them from entering the village, “Come on, there’s my uncle.”  He said, a big grin coming to his face. 

“Uncle Alvor!”  Hadvar called to his uncle, who was just sitting down to work the grindstone.  “Hello!”  He said merrily. 

“Hadvar?”  Alvor sounded so pleased to see him, “What are you doing here?”  He was also surprised.  He got up from his grindstone and walked over to them giving his nephew a big hug and a hearty clap on the back that Hadvar tried not to wince through; his burns were not healed like Saadia’s now were.  “Are you on leave from-?”  Alvor began to say and then he saw the state his nephew was in, singed clothing, burns and bandages, sweaty, bloody, dirty… “Shor's bones, what happened to you, boy?”  Worry seeped into his tone, “Are you in some kind of trouble?”

“Sh.”  Hadvar shushed him gently, “Uncle please, keep your voice down.”  Hadvar took a quick look around.  There was a man with yellow-blond hair leaning on the veranda across the road watching them.  “I’m fine.”  He reassured his uncle.  “But I think we should go inside to talk.”  Hadvar said, watching the blond man from the corner of his eye. 

“What’s going on?”  Alvor asked deeply concerned.  He turned to look at Saadia, “And who’s this?”  He asked suspiciously.

“She’s a friend.”  Hadvar answered simply, honestly, “Saved my life, in fact.  Come on, I'll explain everything but we need to go inside.”  Hadvar insisted. 

Saadia looked across the road to the man who was watching them.  He raised a friendly hand in a ‘hello’ gesture and she returned the motion before turning back to Hadvar and Alvor.

“Okay, okay.”  Alvor was saying, “Come inside, then.”  He led them to the front door to his house; his blacksmith shop was attached to the side veranda of his home, “Sigrid will get you something to eat, and you can tell me all about it.”

Across the road and old woman started screaming about seeing a Dragon.  The blond man dismissed her cruelly; she was his mother and he was obviously tired of her delusional ramblings.  Saadia watched this for a moment and thought about these trusting people being slowly filled with distrust, suspicion and fear from civil war and Dragon attacks.  She didn’t much like that thought. 

She went inside and took in Alvor properly; he was a big burly man with lighter hair than his nephew’s and a bigger beard than the clean shaven Hadvar, but they shared the same good bone structure through the cheeks and jawline.

There was a girl of about 7 or 8, sitting beside the bed reading a book when Alvor led them inside, she looked up excitedly and ran to give Hadvar a hug.

“Hadvar!”  She squealed delightedly.

“Dorthe!”  He lifted her up, wincing through the pain. 

“This is my cousin Dorthe.”  He said to Saadia, “This is my good friend Saadia.”  He said to Dorthe who looked at Saadia with wonder.

“Hello.”  The little girl said with wide eyes.  Saadia gave her a smile and supposed she’d have to get used to this; there would be parts of Skyrim that had never seen a woman like her.

But it wasn’t her dark skin the girl was looking at; it was Saadia’s eyes that had caught her attention.  

Sigrid came up from the downstairs cellar and saw them.

“Hadvar!”  She said warmly and then her eyebrows instantly creased with worry.  “Dorthe child, get down.”  She said and went to her nephew, putting her hands near the burns on his neck.  “What happened?”  She gasped and instantly started to work the lacings on his armour.

“It’s fine aunt.”  Hadvar lied.  But now that the threat was over, the pain and exhaustion was getting the better of him.  She pulled his armour off and shook her head at the state of him.

“I’ll have no lies in this home!”  She answered and went to the dresser, pulling out some dried leaves and other ingredients.  “These burns will take a long time to heal, even with the best potions and ingredients in Skyrim… which I don’t have.”

“Quit your fussing woman.”  Alvor said with humour and sat his nephew down at the table, pointing at a spare chair for Saadia to take.  Saadia sat down and watched this family reunion with mixed feelings.  It was good to see Hadvar so cared for, but it highlighted how utterly alone she was in this world.  Sigrid gave Alvor an unimpressed expression and continued to tend Hadvar’s wounds.

“Dorthe child, put last night’s gruel on to warm up.”  Sigrid said and Dorthe went to the hearth and stoked the fire, moving the large black, cast iron pot over the fire.  “I dare say you’re both famished.”  She said to Hadvar and Saadia.

“Yes ma’am!”  Hadvar agreed with a respectful and loving smile.  “I feel like I haven’t eaten in weeks.” 

Saadia nodded in agreement and watched Sigrid’s ministrations with interest; she felt like she was learning a lot about healing by watching her skilled hands administer the herbs gently to Hadvar’s wounds. 

Dorthe began to set the table for a meal; bread, fruit and vegetables, mead and ale, cheese and cold cooked meats were put on the table; it looked like she was putting everything they had out for their guests. 

“Now then, boy, what's the big mystery?”  Alvor asked taking a sip of mead as soon as Dorthe put it in front of him.  Saadia’s stomach grumbled as she looked at all the food on the table, but she wasn’t sure if she should eat anything.  She watched Alvor and Hadvar instead; to take her mind off how hungry she was.  “What are you doing here looking like you lost an argument with a cave bear?”  Alvor asked in a worried tone.  Sigrid tutted at the poor job Hadvar had done of bandaging his wounds, but said nothing, listening intently to them as they spoke. 

“I don't know where to start.”  Hadvar answered, trying to get his thoughts in order, “You know I was assigned to General Tullius's guard.”  Alvor nodded in reply and Hadvar continued, “We were stopped in Helgen when we were attacked by...”  Hadvar paused, not sure how to say it.  “a Dragon.”  He said finally.  Dorthe gasped, nearly dropping the knives and forks she was carrying, and looked like she was half excited, half terrified.  Her eyes were now glued to Hadvar.

“A Dragon?”  Alvor scoffed, “That's ridiculous.  You aren't drunk, are you boy?”  He dismissed the notion entirely.  Saadia was about to back Hadvar up when Sigrid spoke.   
“Husband.  Let him tell his story.”  She had the tone of a woman who had had to tell her husband this many times.  “I hardly think a cave bear gave him these burns!”  She added. 

“Not much more to tell.”  Hadvar answered, “The Dragon flew over and just wrecked the whole place.  Mass confusion.  I don't know if anyone else got out alive.”  The horror of what had happened was clear on his face and Saadia saw Alvor begin to believe what he was being told, “I doubt I'd have made it out if not for my friend here.”  He looked at Saadia with real warmth.  “I need to get back to Solitude and let them know what's happened.”  Hadvar continued.

“You’re not going anywhere boy.”  Sigrid said firmly, “You’ll be lucky if fever doesn’t take you tonight; there’s already infection in some of these wounds.” 

“I’ll be fine aunt, I-”

“You’ll be fine if you rest.”  She said firmly.  She was obviously not a woman to disobey at any time.  Alvor raised an eyebrow at his nephew, making it clear he would not disagree with his wife. 

“There’s a courier here from Solitude, came through Whiterun.”  Alvor said, “Heading to Falkreath; taking messages to all the hold’s capitals about peace.”  He added.  “He’s staying at the inn tonight before heading off tomorrow.  We can have him take a message with him back to Solitude for no coin or trouble.”  Alvor solved the argument and Hadvar nodded, half glad that he would get some time to rest and heal, even though his duty and honour demanded that he go to Solitude. 

“Uncle…”  Hadvar hesitated only momentarily, “I thought you could help us out.”  He said meaningfully, his eyes going to Saadia, making it obvious that it was Saadia that needed the help he was asking for, “Food, supplies, a place to stay?”

“Of course!”  The burly man beamed, “Any friend of Hadvar's is a friend of mine.”  He told Saadia honestly; Saadia was beginning to think that this whole family was as good and earnest as Hadvar.  “I'd be glad to help however I can.  But I need your help.”  He said in a serious tone, “We need your help.”  He emphasised, meaning the whole village of Riverwood needed help, “You do not seem to have the wounds my nephew has…”  He said looking her up and down, “and the Jarl of Whiterun needs to know if there's a Dragon on the loose.”  His voice had a tone of urgency, “Riverwood is defenceless... You need to get word to Jarl Balgruuf to send whatever soldiers he can.  If you do this for me, I'll be in your debt.”   He said as he got up and helped Dorthe serve up the gruel from the bubbling pot.  He handed Saadia the first bowl of food. 

“Of course I’ll go.”  Saadia answered, “But I’m new to Skyrim, so I don’t know how to get to Whiterun from here?” 

“That’s easy enough.”  He answered and took a folded map from the drawers beside the double bed. 

It was a large map of Skyrim, folded into a neat little square.  He unfolded it and she saw that the capital cities of each hold was marked, as well as villages, forts and a few other points of interests like the guardian stones.  Everything marked was along the roads.  Mountains, rivers and roads were clearly marked… but there were vast expanses of empty wilderness between the cities.

Alvor pointed out Riverwood and Whiterun on the map and then proceeded to give her quite detailed directions, including going past a tree with a growth of bleeding crown mushrooms at its base and then he added that once she got to Whiterun she should just continue through the town all the way up to Dragonsreach; the Jarl’s keep.

Saadia looked to Hadvar who was grinning fondly at his uncle.

“Thanks.”  Saadia said and Alvor folded up the map and handed it to her.

“I’ve no use for it.”  He said, “This is the first time I’ve opened it since I bought it from the Riverwood Trader.”  He admitted and Sigrid rolled her eyes, but her face was filled with love for her husband, despite his foibles.  “I just liked the look of it.”  He said of the map fondly, “But you have better use of it.” 

“Thank you.”  Saadia answered and put the map in the front pocket of her bag, at her feet.

They started to eat, dipping bread in the hearty, delicious gruel. 

“Did you really see a Dragon?”  Dorthe asked Hadvar “What did it look like?  Did it have big teeth?”  She asked excitedly.

“Hush child, don’t pester your cousin so.”  Sigrid said as she finally finished tending Hadvar’s wounds and sat down to eat with them. 

“Do you have any other questions friend?’  Alvor asked her and Saadia paused for a moment in consideration. 

“What’s the Jarl like?  Will he be okay with a stranger approaching him?”  She worried that overzealous guards might seek to protect him by ending her life.

“He’s a good man.”  Alvor answered honestly.

“A good ruler.”  Sigrid agreed.

“A bit over-cautious sometimes, but these are dangerous times.”  Alvor continued.  “So far he’s managed to stay out of this damned war.  I’m afraid it can’t last though.” 

“I don’t want war to visit Riverwood.”  Sigrid sighed and looked around her home as if it would all disappear momentarily. 

“Which side of the war does the Jarl favour?”  Saadia asked curiously.

“I don’t think he likes Ulfric or Elisif much.  Who can blame him?”  Alvor answered, “But I have no doubt he’ll stay loyal to the Empire in the end.  He’s no traitor.”  Alvor and Hadvar raised their drinks to that. 

“So you favour the Empire?”  Saadia asked, thinking of how Ralof had revered Ulfric and his cause.

“Of course.”  Alvor answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, “Skyrim has always been part of the Empire.”  He was obviously firm in his belief that it should always remain part of the Empire, “That doesn't mean I support everything the Empire's been doing lately, but Nords have never been fair-weather friends.”  He and Hadvar nodded in agreement. 

“Yes, you stick by your friends, even if they need persuading to change their ways.”  Hadvar agreed, making Saadia think of his friendship with Ralof.

“What if they can’t be persuaded?”  She asked.

“War is the kind of persuasion these Stormcloaks need.”  Hadvar answered, “Once enough of them have died… or once we have Ulfric… the rest will be persuaded to return home, to return to peace and unity.” 

“I hope so.”  Alvor agreed.

“I do not think it will be that simple.”  Sigrid said, “That they will return to their villages and the scars of this war will be so easily forgotten…”  She shook her head, “’Tis a dream.”  She concluded.

“Skyrim will know peace again.”  Hadvar answered.

“Aye but it will come with a high price.”  Sigrid agreed.

“Damn these Stormcloaks.”  Alvor shook his head, “It’s not right; Nord killing Nord.” 

Saadia listened to them grumble about this for a few minutes.

“And who’s Elisif?”  Saadia asked in a lull in the conversation.

“I’m sorry, I forgot you’re new to Skyrim!”  Alvor laughed at his foolishness in not explaining it all to her properly, “Jarl Elisif, I should say, although only because she was married to Jarl Torryg when he was murdered.”  Alvor gossiped like the best of them, “Ulfric murdered Torygg, you know.”  He was clearly outraged by this, “Walked right into his palace in Solitude and killed him.  Shouted him to death, if you believe the stories.”  His eyes opened wide with that, “That's what started this whole war.  The Empire couldn't ignore that.  Once the Jarls start killing each other, we're back to the bad old days.”

“Shouted him to death…”  Saadia said softly, thinking about the Dragon; about how he had been shouting the fire into life.  But Alvor didn’t hear her and continued on his rant about the civil war.

“People are rightly stirred up about the damn Thalmor being allowed to roam around arresting people, just for worshipping Talos.  But was it worth tearing Skyrim apart, and maybe destroying the Empire?”  He asked, “No,” He answered firmly, pointing the rabbit bone he’d been tearing meat from at her as he spoke, “Ulfric will have a lot to answer for in the end.  Nords have always supported the Empire, and the Empire has always been good for Skyrim.”

“Peace, prosperity, security…”  Sigrid lamented, as if what the Empire had brought them was already gone.

“I just hope the war doesn't come to Riverwood.  There's enough trouble in the world without those Stormcloaks stirring up more.”  Alvor said sincerely. 

“What’s that about the Thalmor arresting people?”  Saadia asked.  Some of these words and names were things she had read about, but some weren’t, and it was very confusing.

“It's from that treaty that ended the Great War, remember?  When the Emperor was forced by the Thalmor to outlaw Talos worship?”  He asked her but she shook her head, “We didn't pay much attention to it when I was a boy - everyone still had their little shrine to Talos.”  He took out a Talos necklace that was around his neck to prove his point, before carefully tucking back under his shirt, “But then Ulfric and his ‘Sons of Skyrim’ started agitating about it, and sure enough the Emperor had to crack down.  Dragging people off in the middle of the night... one of the main causes of this war, if you ask me.”  He grumbled. 

“Alright, enough politics, let Saadia eat and mend up afore she sets out again.”  Sigrid said and they finished the meal in pleasant conversation about town gossip, planting seasons and the fact that the mill needed more workers. 

“This was amazing.  Thank you Sigrid, thank you Dorthe.”  Saadia praised the delicious food as Sigrid cleaned up the empty plates, leaving the half empty pot of gruel on the table for them to have seconds if they wanted. 

“My pleasure!”  Dorthe answered like she’d waited her whole life to recite those learned words. 

Sigrid beamed at Saadia’s praise but waved it off, sending her daughter off to play and her husband back to the forge rather than replying to Saadia’s words.

“You two rest for a bit.”  She told them, putting a hand on Hadvar’s shoulder.  She pointed at the double bed.  “I insist you get some sleep.  Dorthe’s bed is probably too small for you 2 strapping warriors!”  She raised her eyebrows, “But I’m sure you 2 can manage to share a bed without any issues?”  She asked, her shrewd glance going from Hadvar to Saadia; she was obviously playing matchmaker.

“Thank you Sigrid.”  Saadia answered, saving Hadvar any further embarrassment. 

“My pleasure, girl.”  She smiled, “Now get some sleep.”  She commanded and left the cottage. 

The two new friends looked at each other for a moment and kept eating; they were both famished.

“Looks like you’re stuck here for a while.”  Saadia said and Hadvar nodded.

“I think it’s probably best.”  He answered, “My aunt always knows best in these matters.” 

“She’s a skilled healer.”

“She was thinking of being a healer until she fell in love with my uncle.”  Hadvar said, “She gave everything up to live in this little village with him.”

“I don’t think I could ever do that.”  Saadia answered.

“I don’t think she ever regretted it.”  Hadvar answered, “Sometimes that’s what love demands of us.  I’d give up anything for the one I love.”  He gave a wistful look, his eyes misting over with romanticism. 

“Even the Empire?”  Saadia asked shrewdly. 

Hadvar came back to his senses and gave her a knowing smile.

“I guess we all have our limits.”  He acknowledged and put a spoonful of gruel in his mouth. 

“So Ralof-” She tried to dig for more information.

“Was a Stormcloak prisoner.”  Hadvar said firmly. 

“And who were all those prisoners?”  Saadia accepted that Hadvar didn’t want to talk about his personal life, and let his deflection go.  It wouldn’t hurt to have more information on the war.

“That was Ulfric and his top lieutenants.”  Hadvar’s face was troubled; he obviously didn’t like that Ralof was one of Ulfric’s top lieutenants.  “We’d been trying to capture them for months, but Ulfric was always one step ahead of us… but this time, he rode right into our ambush with only a few bodyguards.  He surrendered pretty meekly, too.  So much for his death-or-glory reputation.”  He said with a cocked eyebrow but then he sighed.  “Now I wonder if he meant to be captured…”  He mused softly and sighed, his thoughts returning to Ralof.  “The Stormcloaks claim to be fighting for Skyrim's freedom, but their war is really all about Ulfric wanting to be High King of Skyrim.”  Hadvar concluded, obviously sad for Ralof.

“Tell me more about the Stormcloaks and the civil war?”  She asked him, seeing that he was glad to be talking freely about it all. 

“You haven't heard about the civil war in Skyrim?”  He was surprised as she shook her head; the first she’d heard about it was from the older woman who had helped her, “I guess down in Cyrodiil people have other things to worry about.”  He said with a slightly bitter undertone.

“I wouldn’t know.”  Saadia answered, “I’ve lived my whole life in seclusion.”  She added; not wanting to give away where she was from exactly, in case her father and brothers were still looking for her.  The Isle of Stirk might be part of Cyrodiil, but it was very secluded and the happenings in the outside world rarely made it to the walls of the castle that had imprisoned her for all of her life.  She could see the curiosity in Hadvar’s expression and lowered her eyes.  “Anyway; the Stormcloaks?”  She asked again.

“It's pretty simple.”  He explained obviously actually wanting to talk about her life but knowing better than to ask, “Ulfric founded the Stormcloaks years ago, as a sort of private army to advance his ambitions.  He's always used the ban on the worship of Talos to stir people up against the Empire.  He never succeeded in getting much support, so a few months ago he murdered the High King!  That got the Empire's attention.”

“I bet!”  Saadia answered.  “But why ban Talos worship?”  She asked, “Why ban the worship of one God?” 

“Who knows.”  Hadvar said, “I think the Elves just couldn’t stand that a mortal, Nord Human was made a God by the other Gods.”  He disclosed, “But I guess that wasn't such a big deal elsewhere in the Empire because no one else seemed to mind.”  He shrugged, “but here it's caused a lot of resentment.  Talos being a native son and all that.”  He stretched his legs out under the table and continued to eat as he talked, “Even I'll admit it hasn't been the Empire's finest hour.  But it wasn't like the Emperor had any choice, did he?”  Hadvar defended his Emperor staunchly, “If he hadn't signed the peace treaty with the Thalmor, they would have destroyed the Empire - then where would Skyrim be?  That's the part that Ulfric's supporters always conveniently forget about.  Unless the Empire stands together, the Thalmor will destroy us all.”

“So it sounds like the Thalmor are actually the bad ones here?”  Saadia tried to remember everything, she had read only a little about the Thalmor; all she could clearly remember was that they were Elves.  She was simply too exhausted. 

“You can say that again.  But we’re not really supposed to say that.”  Hadvar said and yawned.  “Alright, I have got to get some sleep.”

They both got up and Hadvar unnecessarily turned away while she stripped off her armour.

She looked down at the tattered tunic she had; the only thing she truly owned, other than the map Alvor had given her.  Everything else was stolen.  She’d have to make some money, get some clothes and better armour…

But for now, she needed to rest.  She settled down into the firm but warm bed and watched Hadvar remove his clothes, stripping down to his undergarments.  She noticed the way his muscles moved under his skin and smiled to herself; at least she could remedy one of the regrets she’d had when she had thought she was about to die.  Skyrim seemed to be filled with attractive men and women – she just hoped that at least some of them would have the same sexual appetites she had, and that none of them were too prudish. 

Hadvar got into the bed beside her; keeping a respectful distance, so that their bodies didn’t touch. 

They laid in silence for a while.

“I thought Dragons were a myth, or extinct.”  Saadia mumbled, her mind going over what had happened today as she lay staring at the ceiling.

“So did I!  If the damn Stormcloaks somehow found one, or woke it up... the war might be about to take an ugly turn.”  Hadvar fretted, “Hard to believe it was just a coincidence, that the first Dragon anyone's seen for centuries attacks just as Ulfric was about to be executed.”

“I don’t know Hadvar.”  Saadia said, “They looked just as surprised as the rest of us… and it was killing them just as much as the rest of us too.”

“Still… pretty big coincidence.”  Hadvar answered and Saadia nodded.

“Pretty big.”  She agreed, her eyes heavy.  “But maybe it was someone else… someone else who wants a civil war?”

“Who else would want that?”  Hadvar yawned.

“I have no idea.”  Saadia caught his yawn and stretched as well.  “Do you really think I should join the Legion?”  She asked after a moment’s silence.

“Of course!”  He managed to sound sleepy and emphatic at the same time, “I know, today wasn't the best introduction to the Legion, but I hope you'll give us another chance.”

“General Tullius ordered my execution.  I’m not very sympathetic towards him.”  Saadia said honestly.

“Yes, I’d be angry too if that had happened to me.”  Hadvar admitted, “But it was all a mistake. You weren't supposed to be on that cart with those Stormcloak traitors.  And the Imperial Legion needs your help, especially now, with that Dragon out there somewhere, and Ulfric back on the loose.”

“I’ll have to think about it.”  Saadia answered. 

“Sure, I understand.  It's not easy to go from being executed by the Legion one day to joining up the next.”  He admitted, “But I think you'll see that the Legion is Skyrim's only hope for real peace right now.  I know you'll make the right choice in the end.”

“Thanks for your faith in me.”  Saadia answered.

“It’s easy to have faith in you.”  Hadvar answered, “you’ve earned it.”  Both of them thought about the horrors they’d seen today; the screams, melting flesh and dead villagers…

She reached out and took his hand, both of them finding comfort in the physical contact, and they laid in silence for a while. 

“Are you really half Nord?”  He asked, wondering if that had just been a ruse to gain mercy.

“Yes.”  Saadia answered, “Half Nord, half Redguard.”

“Was it your ma or pa that’s the Nord?”

“My father.”  She answered. 

“I’ve never met a half Nord before.”  He said groggily before falling asleep.  Saadia stared at the ceiling for a moment more before drifting off to sleep herself. 

 

***

 

When she had awoken the next morning, Sigrid was sitting on the bed, leaning over Hadvar, tending his wounds. 

He was unconscious.

“The fever came upon him last night.”  She said softly as Saadia sat up. 

“Oh no…”  Saadia whispered, looking at his feverish, sweat covered face.  He mumbled about the screams, his head falling to the side. 

“He’ll be fine.”  Sigrid assured her, “I have the skill and the herbs to heal him.  It will just take some time.”  She put a wet cloth on her nephew’s forehead and looked up at Saadia.  “You will go to Whiterun won’t you?”  She asked fretfully.  “We have no guards at all.”  She added, “We need…”  She took a deep breath and shook her head.  Saadia reach forward and took her hand. 

“I’ll go, I’ll tell the Jarl you need protection.”  Saadia answered, “And I’ll be as quick as I can.” 

Sigrid threw her arms around Saadia, fearful tears in her eyes that were quickly stifled behind that fierce Nord pride.

“Look at us, acting like children, leaning all over poor Hadvar.”  She wiped her face and got up, going to her wardrobe.  She took out a dress and handed it to Saadia.  “I noticed you have no clothes.”  She said, nodding towards Saadia’s tatty tunic. 

Saadia, gently touched the dress, her emotions threatening to overflow; this was the first dress she’d ever owned. 

As a child, all of her father’s children were raised and dressed the same in pants and tunics, until the girl’s first menses; then the girl’s futures were decided. 

Her future had been the one that hadn’t included dresses.

“I know you’re more solidly built than me.”  Sigrid said, “This is the dress I wore when I was pregnant with Dorthe, Camilla at the Riverwood trader should be able to make some adjustments so it fits properly for a few gold pieces.  Or if you haven’t the gold, I could adjust it for you.”  She said, “It’ll be good to see this dress be put to good use.”

“Thank you.”  Saadia answered. 

“I have some other things for you as well.  I think we’ve loaded you up with so many things you’ll barely be able to walk.”  She said and handed Saadia a second bag of goods.  “Don’t feel bad if you decide to sell some of it for gold.  I know how the world works.”  She went to the table and picked up a satchel full of food and potions, and grabbed Saadia’s other bag, bringing them to her.  “I don’t mean to be rude, but you really must go as soon as you can.”

“I understand the urgency.”  Saadia answered. 

“I’ve put out a bowl of water for you to bathe with, and a quick breakfast.”  Sigrid continued.

“And then I’ll be on my way.”  Saadia assured her.  “But… can I come back to visit?”  She asked, her eyes going to Hadvar.

“Hadvar would like that.”  Sigrid answered, “We all would.”  She gave Saadia a kiss on the cheek, “Safe travels.”  She whispered as she gave her another hug before slipping out of the cottage. 

Saadia took a deep breath and looked back at Hadvar.

She could hear Alvor’s anvil ringing out, could hear people talking as they walked past the cottage…

She went to the bowl, stripped off and used the icy water to bathe, she dried using a towel Sigrid had left out for her, got dressed, ate the food hurriedly, put her armour back on and then loaded herself up with her bags.

“Ooph!”  She’d definitely need to offload some of this weight before she could run to Whiterun. 

She left the cottage and took in Riverwood again.  She could see plenty of Nords wandering in the early morning light, a few Imperials, and a Wood Elf with a bow and arrow, heading towards the mill. 

She crossed the road to the Riverwood Trader and opened the door.

“Well one of us has to do something!”  An angry woman’s voice.

“I said no!  No adventures, no theatrics, no thief chasing!”  An even angrier man’s voice replied.

“Well what are you going to do?” 

Saadia watched the two Imperials argue; brother and sister by the way they were acting, although she got most of the good traits by the looks of it.  Saadia watched her cheeks redden with anger and appreciated the way she stomped her foot with determination. 

“Huh?”  She demanded, “Let’s hear it!”

“We are done talking about this!”  He was exasperated.

Saadia cleared her throat, unintentionally breaking up the fight.

“Oh a customer!”  He turned to Saadia and the woman looked away and crossed her arms furiously.  “Sorry you had to hear that.”  He said, giving the woman a dirty look before returning his attention to Saadia, “I don’t know what you heard, but the Riverwood Trader is still open and ready to trade!  My name is Lucan, and this is my sister Camilla, welcome to our store; how can we help you?  Feel free to shop around.”  He pointed out the shelves of goods lining the stone walls.  “We also offer a few services, let me know if you need anything.”

“I just have a few things to sell.”  Saadia answered, deciding that getting the dress re-sized could wait; she needed to get to Whiterun as quickly as possible. 

She sold a few things; enough to shove her now empty second bag into her first bag and to earn a few hundred coins, before her curiosity got the better of her.

“Something happened?”  Saadia asked.

“Uh…” Lucan seemed debating over whether to tell her, his gruff voice and demeanour easy for her to read.  “We did have a bit of a break in.”  He finally admitted, “Thieves were only after one thing.”  He sighed.  “An ornament; solid gold, in the shape of a dragon’s claw.”  He looked very upset to have had it stolen; it obviously meant a lot to him.  Saadia took in his short brown hair and goatee, neatly trimmed, his small build, but his rough voice and mannerisms.  In an instant she decided to help them.  Mostly because of Camilla.  She looked over at the brooding woman, angrily sweeping the floor.  A tall, elegant woman with brown hair and smooth skin.  She had large expressive eyes and a fiery temperament that showed in her cheeks when she was angered.  Saadia liked her instantly. 

“I’ll get the claw back for you.”  Saadia told him.

“You will?”  He asked eagerly, “I’ve got some coin coming in from my last shipment – it’s yours if you can bring me back the claw!” 

“Ok.”  Saadia agreed.  Part of her felt like she should do it for free, but then, she knew she needed the gold. 

“The thieves were seen heading towards Bleak Falls Barrow.”  Lucan told her and Saadia felt her heart drop; why did she get herself into this?

“So this is your plan, Lucan?”  Camilla asked and Saadia looked over at her while Lucan rolled his eyes in frustration.  That’s right – she’d gotten herself into this because of that magnificent woman…  
“Yes.”  He answered brusquely, “So now you don't have to go, do you?”  His voice was smug; he’d solved the problem to his benefit perfectly.

“Oh really?”  Camilla clearly had a card up her sleeve, “Well I think your new helper here needs a guide.”

“Wh-?”  Lucan was astounded, “NO!”  He commanded.  “I… Oh by the 8, fine!”  He gave in, “But only to the edge of town!”  He ordered.

“Um…” Saadia said awkwardly, “I can’t have you-”

“What?”  Camilla turned on her, “Oh really?”  She was clearly upset, but Lucan broke out into a huge grin.

“HA!”  he gloated.

“You’re as bad as my brother!”  She declared and Saadia shook her head, “I can take care of myself you know!”

“I just meant that I have to give a message to the Jarl of Whiterun first.”  Saadia answered, “Then I’ll come back with your golden claw.”  Lucan and Camilla stared at her for a moment.  “So unless you want to accompany me all the way to Whiterun…”

“NO!”  Lucan immediately said while Camilla looked like she might say yes. 

“Fine.”  She answered, “But maybe I can be assistance to you at a later date.” 

“Quite possibly.”  Saadia answered and Camilla gave her a big, inviting smile and handed her a healing potion.

“On the house.”  She said, giving Saadia a wink.

“By the 8.”  Lucan grumbled.

“I’ll see you both later.”  Saadia said with a grin before heading out of the store. 

She stopped off to say farewell to Alvor before heading out of town. 

She crossed the bridge at the edge of the town, looking at the early morning sun sparkling on the water, dragonflies darting across the shallows, brightly coloured fish just under the surface, hunting them. 

She took a deep breath as she looked at the worn wooden sign, pointing the direction for multiple cities and villages. 

And then she set off at a run towards Whiterun.

The path wound alongside the river, even as it crashed through waterfalls.  All manner of creatures lived in the forests, and she saw wolves hunting elk. 

She couldn’t believe the beauty.

This felt like home.  The old woman had been right about coming to Skyrim. 

After a while, the road left the side of the river and she caught sight of Whiterun in the distance.  A beautiful walled city, almost a glorified village with a huge castle looming over it. 

Dragonsreach. 

She stopped for a drink of water from her wine bottle and looked over the lay of the land; she could see mills and farmland surrounding Whiterun, the river snaking through them, a well-tended road leading all the way to the gates of the city in the distance. 

She ran on, only to find several Imperial soldiers leading a Stormcloak prisoner on the road. 

Hadvar’s warning to steer clear of the Legion until she had been officially pardoned rung in her ears. 

She lowered her head, slowed her run to a fast walk and started to pass them.

“Steer clear!”  The soldier warned her, “Official Legion business!”  He pulled his sword out.

“If you know any true sons or daughters of Skyrim,” The prisoner cried out to her, “Tell them to head to Windhelm; Ulfric Stormcloak wants to see them!”

A soldier punched the ragged looking prisoner in the stomach and pushed him along, while another advanced on Saadia, his sword drawn.

“Move along!”  He ordered her angrily.   

“Just travelling to Whiterun.”  She said, holding up her hands and moving along as quickly as she could, keeping her head down.  She didn’t like how aggressive these Imperial soldiers were.  Skyrim deserved better than this.  She tried to picture a poor farmer, traveller, trader, or anyone else who couldn’t handle themselves coming across this scene.  How would they handle these zealous, armed men? 

Would they now be dead?

She found herself sympathising with the Stormcloaks; these Imperials shouldn’t be treating other people like that.  But then she thought of Hadvar and his family and sighed. 

She ran on towards the farms surrounding Whiterun, her head filled with noise about this civil war. 

She crossed another beautiful stone bridge, the river roaring beneath and a strange harmonic thrumming filling the air.  She stopped to look over the edge of the bridge to find the cause of the humming, but could only see a plant, softly glowing, growing on the shoreline of the river.

She turned to see a guard walking across the bridge.  But he was different to the battle-hardened and edgy Imperial soldiers she had just seen.  His armour was different, and he had yellow livery, a shield with a horse motif on it.

He stopped and bid her a good day, going on to add that he had heard that a Dragon had attacked Helgen.

Saadia said nothing on the topic, remembering Hadvar’s desire to keep it quiet, but wished him a good day and watched him continue on the path; keeping the roads through the farmland free of bandits or any other trouble. 

It seemed like the guards of the city were a far friendlier bunch than the those of the legion. 

She continued on towards the city, cutting across the farmland, when she saw a giant across the river.

It looked like it was being attacked by three people; a woman with a bow and arrow, and two people with close range weapons.

Saadia instantly made a beeline for the giant, wading out across the river.

“No Farkas!”  The woman with the bow and arrow called as the man was about to strike the giant with his full force.  Farkas obviously held back and hit less severely, ducked under the giant’s club and rolled away.  Beside him a woman rushed forward; clearly less skilled with her weapon she swung wildly, striking the giant in the shin.  By some luck, the blow was good and the giant fell to his knee. 

The other woman shot the giant in the arm with an arrow, Farkas sliced at the giant’s good leg, making it topple even further to the ground, but the two more experienced warriors held back, letting the less experienced fighter have the kill stroke. 

And she took it, slicing the giant’s throat with a victorious cry just as Saadia got to them.  Blood flowed out of the wound and covered the girl; she could be no more than 18 or 19 summers old, and she laughed triumphantly.

The farmers peered out from their homes, from behind barrels, from under overturned carts and started to cheer when they saw what had happened.  The farmland had a very obvious trail of destruction; showing the path the giant had taken through their lands.

“All hail the Companions!”  One of the farmers cried as they rushed over to thank the warriors. 

Farkas deferred and put the praise on the youngest of them; the girl that had made the killing move, and she was rewarded with some gold from the farmers, and a lot of praise. 

But the woman with the bow and arrow was uninterested in accolades; she had spotted Saadia.

A hunter, a warrior, can spot a kindred spirit.  And the woman with the bow and arrow spotted Saadia through all the crowd because she knew a warrior – a hunter – when she saw one.

“Well that’s taken care of.”  She said referring to the giant.  “No thanks to you.”  She challenged Saadia. 

“You didn’t look like you needed any help.”  Saadia didn’t take the bait and the woman made an unimpressed sound.

“Certainly not.”  She answered proudly, her head held high, Saadia enjoying her form immensely; she was a magnificent huntress.  “But a true warrior would have relished the opportunity to take on a giant.”  Her tone was accusatory.  “That's why I'm here with my Shield-siblings.”

“So who are you?”  Saadia asked, crossing her arms, sizing up this woman.

“I am Aela the Huntress.”  She answered, “This Farkas and Ria.”  Farkas walked up to them, leaving Ria basking in the glory of her victory. 

Saadia was struck by him; he was the most attractive man she had ever seen in her life.  Strongly built; a body honed by years of battle and wearing heavy armour, his huge double-handed greatsword now holstered in a holder on his back… A strong jaw, long black hair, stubble and light blue eyes that pierced her soul.  His jawline was strong, his hands stronger, his gaze penetrating. 

She watched as he looked her up and down, taking her in, obviously not minding what he was seeing one bit.

“We are members of the Companions.”  Aela was saying. 

“The Companions?”  Saadia asked, not wanting to sound so ignorant, but not able to focus properly; she was desperately trying to not stare at Farkas, his calm eyes on her, steady, not looking away for a moment.  There was a fire in him that she didn’t understand, a red, heated, hunger.  She barely even noticed Ria walking up to stand at Aela’s other side; she was too busy watching Farkas in her periphery, her eyes staying on Aela, while his eyes stayed on Saadia. 

“An outsider, eh?”  Aela mused, “Never heard of the Companions?”  She smiled condescendingly, “An order of warriors. We are brothers and sisters in honour.  And we show up to solve problems… if the coin is good enough.”

“You should join up.”  Ria said in a friendly tone and Aela gave her a dirty look.

“Agreed.”  Farkas said.  “You look strong, come to Jorrvaskr and be a Companion.”  It was almost a demand.  Even his voice was sexy and Saadia felt her body warming up; responding to his presence, even though this was far from a sexual situation. 

Aela now gave Farkas a dirty look and looked back at Saadia.

“It’s not for us to say.”  She said firmly.  “If you want to join, you'll have to talk to Kodlak Whitemane up in Jorrvaskr.  The old man's got a good sense for people.  He can look in your eyes and tell your worth.”

“If you go to him, good luck.”  Ria said with a warm smile. 

“Hope to see you again.”  Farkas said, with more than a hint of suggestion in his voice. 

Aela led them away from the farm, the farmers cheering them one last time before returning to the huge task of cleaning up the mess. 

Saadia watched them go; heading back towards the city.

“Wow.”  She breathed.  “Skyrim is full of very attractive people.”  She whispered to herself and turned to the giant, wondering if those huge pockets of his had anything worth selling in them. 

She didn’t want to catch up with them, so she stayed back and helped the farmers clean up for an hour, earning much praise and gratitude and a free meal, before returning to her journey to Whiterun.

It turned out that there wasn’t very far to go; a few more fields, the stables and here were the city’s fortifications with a band of Khajiit traders camping outside of them.  She wanted the chance to talk to them, but knew she had already tarried long enough helping the farmers, so she rushed on towards the front gate to the city. 

It was a winding and narrow road through steep embankments, fortifications of high wooden towers with archers as lookouts that led up to the front gate – Whiterun was taking no chances with its defence. 

The drawbridge was down and as she crossed it, finally seeing the front gate; only 4 hours after setting out from Riverwood. 

She doubted that many people could have made it here this fast, even with her time at the farm, because she had run the whole way.  And she knew that not many people had the stamina she had. 

As she approached the gate a guard stopped her.

“Halt!”  He said, “City’s closed with the Dragon about.  Official business only.”  He declared.

“I have news from Helgen about the Dragon attack.”  She answered, hoping to persuade the guard to let her through, “Also Riverwood calls for the Jarl’s aid.”  She added, seeing that this persuaded the guard far more than her first words.

“Fine, but we’ll be keeping an eye on you.”

“Of course.”  She answered with a welcoming smile; it was best to keep the guards on her side. 

The guard opened the gate for her, and she finally found herself in Whiterun. 

The buildings; shops and cottages, were strong wooden structures with clay tiled rooves; the clay stained green with decades of moss growth.  The roads were sturdy stone construction, the guardhouse, wall and towers also made of stone.

And there were people bustling about everywhere, guards walking amongst them looking for thieves, children running and playing, people shopping, cleaning their stoops…

She saw guards filling up barrels of water and putting them outside of every building; she heard them telling people that they were in defence of fire.  Saadia suspected that they were in defence of Dragon fire in particular; the water in them would be used to douse flames… These guards had clearly never seen a Dragon attack.  This paltry amount of water would never put out Dragon fire.  She knew she’d have to find the head of the guards and tell them that.

But for now she had to head up to the keep; the castle of the Jarl of Whiterun. 

She looked around again, taking in all the faces and sights…

The first thing that really caught her eye was a man harassing the blacksmith to produce more weapons for the Imperial legion. 

Saadia couldn’t hear the conversation properly, but the blacksmith seemed adamant that she couldn’t fill their order, even suggesting help from another blacksmith in town, but the man refused and demanded she get it done. 

Saadia was about to intervene when the blacksmith agreed to his terms, shaking her head. 

Saadia had to take a deep breath and remind herself why she was here; to see the jarl, not to solve everyone else’s problems.  And also, in the grander scheme of things, she was in Skyrim to disappear – to escape her father.  Anonymity was best; no need to try doing anything heroic. 

She started to walk up the street, noticing just the one abandoned building; every other house and shop was filled.  This was a healthy, vibrant community. 

The sounds, sights and smells were intoxicating and Saadia noticed herself smiling as she walked through the streets, heading upwards towards the castle. 

She came to a small town centre, surrounds by market stalls, other stores, an inn and some stairs up to the next part of the town, two stone chutes filled with water flowing on either side of the stairs, denoting that not only did the city have modern plumbing, but it also did it with style and beauty. 

Up the stairs revealed a small central park with a huge tree, obviously past its prime, a beggar sitting on one of the seats under the tree, a dirty child beside him, being consoled by his words of wisdom.  Water flowed around the tree in stone canals, will small stone bridges over it.  There was also a temple, and a statue and shrine to Talos with a man preaching about Talos in front of it.  Saadia noticed that the houses were bigger up here – obviously the wealthier citizens lived here. 

And to the side, up some grand stairs, was the huge mead hall, Jorrvaskr.  Home of the Companions.  The hall was made from an upside down ship on top of some sturdy wooden walls, and was an imposing sight.  She had read that the hall was the first building in the region, and the city of Whiterun had been built up around it. 

She thought about going in there; and indeed there was a huge pull to go to the Companions.  The fun, the warrior mentality, the promise of gold and adventure, the companionship… the exciting competition of prowess with Aela… the raw sexuality rippling off Farkas…

But she turned to look at the other imposing set of stairs on the other side of the statue to Talos, going up even higher – to Dragonsreach. 

She ran up the first flight of stairs to see that the castle was surrounded by a small artificial lake, fish swimming about in its depths, water tumbling down the walls and rocks beneath the keep in beautiful waterfalls.  But up along the outer wall of the city, wooden spikes punctuated the outline of the sky and reminded her what a dangerous place Skyrim actually was; even for all its beauty. 

She climbed up several more flights of steps, all surrounded by rushing waterfalls, and well patrolled by guards, each greeting her as she continued upwards.

At the top of the stairs a wooden bridge over another artificial lake greeted her, the pillars intricately carved, and beyond the bridge the huge double doors to Dragonsreach.

She crossed the bridge, wondering if anyone would stop her from entering the home of the Jarl.

No one did and she entered the building cautiously.

She was greeted by a huge wooden hall with a firepit burning brightly and light streaming in from the windows on the top floor.  There were balconies overlooking the ground floor; the top floor did not completely cover the bottom floor, and Saadia guessed that the Jarl’s family lived up there. 

Huge iron chandeliers hung down from the ceiling, and the grand columns holding up the roof and balconies were carved with beautiful motifs. 

There was even a large carpeted section of floor leading up to the stairs.

She walked up the stairs, to see the firepit was between two huge feasting tables; empty now. 

And beyond the tables was another set of stairs leading up to a platform with a throne in the centre of it.

And there he was. 

The Jarl was sitting on his throne, talking to an advisor of some sort.

“My lord… Please.”  He pleaded, “You have to listen.  I only counsel caution.  We cannot afford to act rashly in times like these.  If the news from Helgen is true... well, there's no telling what it means.”   
“What would you have me do then?”  Jarl Balgruuf asked tersely.  “Nothing?”

“My lord.  Please.”  The counsellor sounded exhausted from having to say the same words repeatedly, “This is no time for rash action.”  Saadia noticed that a heavily armed woman standing beside the Jarl had noticed her, unsheathed her sword and was approaching her.  The counsellor and the Jarl ignored this, the counsellor continuing in his pleas.  “I just think we need more information before we act.  Perhaps-”

“What’s the meaning of this interruption?”  She asked Saadia threateningly, “Jarl Balgruuf isn’t accepting visitors.”  She stood between Saadia and the Jarl.

Saadia noticed that the Jarl was not so unaware as she had thought, while his eyes were on his pleading counsellor, she could see him watching her in his periphery.  Cunning. 

Saadia repeated what she had said to the guard; she had news from Helgen and Riverwood. 

“Well that explains why the guard let you in.”  She said.  She was a Dark Elf, a Dunmer, and by the way she held her blade, a mighty fine warrior as well.  Saadia took a moment to admire her, as she turned to lead her to the Jarl. 

She walked the steps up to his throne and stopped a few short, the Jarl staring at her, his hand held up to his chin as he leaned back in his chair confidently.  She noticed a huge bone Dragon skull mounted on the wall above him, banners bearing the insignia on the guards’ shields covered the walls.  And even though he was regally dressed, he looked like the kind of man that would be more comfortable at the local tavern.  He was older than most warriors, but he still bore his sword proudly, and he had the look of a man who would surprise you in battle.  His hair was straw blond, with the first few strands of grey growing in, and like so many Nords, he wore plaits in his hair and bore a beard.

Now that she saw him, Saadia understood Hadvar and Alvor’s trust in this man. 

“So.”  He said thoughtfully, “You were at Helgen?”  He said, showing that he had indeed been paying attention to her, “You saw this Dragon with your own eyes?”  She could see the cynicism in his eyes, mixed with fear that it was possibly true.

“I did.”  Saadia answered, wondering how much to tell him; certainly not that she was about to be executed when it happened, “The Dragon destroyed Helgen.”  She said, “It was horrific.”  The Jarl sat forward in his throne, his eyes trained on her, “And last I saw it was heading this way.”  She said, thinking about Hadvar and her seeing the beast flying over Bleak Falls Barrow. 

“By Ysmir, Irileth was right!”  He barely breathed the words, and the woman who had accosted Saadia nodded slightly, acknowledging her Jarl’s words.  So the Dark Elf’s name was Irileth, Saadia took note.  The Jarl turned to his counsellor, “What do you say now, Proventus?”  He asked him.  Saadia took note that the Jarl’s other main servant was named Proventus, trying to commit the names to memory as the Jarl spoke, “shall we continue to trust in the strength of our walls?  Against a Dragon?”

“My lord,” Irileth spoke with complete authority, but utter respect for her Jarl, “we should send troops to Riverwood at once.  It's in the most immediate danger, if that Dragon is lurking in the mountains...”  Saadia could see her mind ticking over strategies for defence.  She was a seasoned warrior, and she already had plans and back up plans for how to deal with this new threat.  This was a person Saadia knew she could trust in the heat of battle. 

“The Jarl of Falkreath will view that as a provocation!”  Proventus protested, “He'll assume we're preparing to join Ulfric's side and attack him.”

“Enough!”  Jarl Balgruuf silenced him, “Irileth, send a detachment to Riverwood at once.”

“Yes, my Jarl.”  She responded.

“We should not-” Proventus began.

“I'll not stand idly by while a Dragon burns my Hold and slaughters my people!”  He answered testily.

“If you'll excuse me, I'll return to my duties.”  Proventus replied, knowing his limits.  
“That would be best.”  The Jarl said, not too unkindly. 

The Jarl turned his eyes to Saadia.

She noticed that there was a wisdom to match the cunning he possessed, she could see much in his eyes.  

“You've done Whiterun a service, and I won't forget it.”  He said and motioned for a servant to come forward, “Give this woman an item from my armoury as a token of my esteem.”  The servant nodded and left the room at a sprint. 

The Jarl looked her up and down, in her stolen singed and blood-stained Imperial armour. 

Saadia felt like he was taking her measure. 

“Thank you.”  She said as a different servant appeared and handed her a mug of ale.  She turned her eyes back to the Jarl. 

“There is another thing you could do for me.”  He said, his eyes narrowing as he considered if this was the best course of action.  He seemed to decide it was and continued, “Suitable for someone of your particular talents, perhaps.”  He got up, Irileth keeping a watchful eye on him, “Come, let's go find Farengar, my court wizard.  He's been looking into a matter related to Dragons and... rumours of Dragons.  He can be a bit difficult.”  He warned, “Mages, you know?”  He asked and Saadia simply nodded, even though she did not know, having never met a mage before. 

He led her to a room off the side of the throne room. 

Within the room was a man in hooded robes, labouring away over several ingredients to make a potion.  There were gems all around him; he had been enchanting weapons for the guards of the hold just a few minutes ago.  The mage didn’t look up when the Jarl entered the room, but Balgruuf didn’t seem to take offense. 

“Farengar,” He got the mage’s attention, “I think I've found someone who can help you with your Dragon project.  Go ahead and fill her in with all the details.”

Saadia looked from the Jarl to the wizard, not sure what to expect. 

Farengar looked down his nose at her and then gave the Jarl a look that indicated he didn’t think much of Saadia at all. 

“I suppose,” He said after a longish pause, “You might be useful for fetching something for me.”  He then broke out into a devilish grin, “And when I say fetching, I really mean delving into a dangerous ruin in search of an ancient stone tablet that may or may not actually be there…”  He added, testing her to see how she’d respond.

She sighed and resigned herself to her fate; she could hardly turn down the Jarl now could she?  Not when she was hoping to settle down in his Hold. 

“Alright.”  Saadia answered, “Where am I going and what am I fetching?”  She put down the mug of ale on Ferengar’s desk and awaited her instructions.

“Straight to the point, eh?”  Farengar seemed pleasantly surprised, but the honest smile quickly left this face, replaced by a smug, condescending smile, “No need for tedious hows or whys; leave those details to your superiors.”  He said, “I like that.”

The Jarl cleared his throat, as if in gentle reprimand and Farengar sighed. 

“I, ah…” He hesitated, “learned,” He said that word, but Saadia could tell that he wasn’t being completely honest, “of a certain stone tablet said to be housed in Bleak Falls Barrow.”  Saadia couldn’t believe it.  Now she had 2 reasons to go to that Gods forsaken ruin.  “It’s called a 'Dragonstone' and it’s said to contain a map of all the Dragon burial sites.”  He started to sound a little excited now, and Saadia could see the true man under his haughty exterior, “I presume it will be interred in the main chamber.  It will be simplicity itself to bring it back to me.”  He told her, “Hopefully, it will aid us in our quest to better understand Dragons.”  He added.

“And thus kill them.”  Saadia said nodding.

“The ruins are near a miserable little village called Riverwood.”  Farengar continued.  Saadia narrowed her eyes and bit her tongue; she liked Riverwood. 

“How do you know the tablet is in the barrow?”  Saadia asked.

“I must retain some professional secrets!”  Farengar answered, “I have my sources, reliable sources!” 

Saadia noticed how the question flustered him, even though he covered it well. 

“Any other questions?”  The Jarl asked.

Saadia considered everything for a moment and then was reminded by the conversation she’d had with Hadvar and Alvor.

“Who do you favour in the war, my Jarl?”  She asked respectfully.

“I favour Whiterun.”  He answered pointedly.  “I know that General Tullius and the Empire believe that I owe them my loyalty, and perhaps I do.”  He said sagely, thoughtfully, “And I know that Ulfric Stormcloak would say I owe my allegiance to the Nord people as they fight for Skyrim’s independence.  Perhaps that is also true.”  He looked Saadia in the eye and spoke with deep purpose and meaning, “The day might come when I am forced to draw my sword for one side or the other.  But that day has not come yet.”  He paused and then gave a small smile, “And when it does come, if it comes, I will favour Whiterun.  Always.” 

Saadia couldn’t tell which side he’d pick.  She supposed he’d pick whichever side would favour Whiterun the most.  He wasn’t interested in petty political squabbles or his own ambition; he was interested in protecting his Hold and his people. 

“Is there anything else?”  Farengar asked politely.

“This is now a priority Farengar, you will work on this day and night until we have an answer.  Anything that can be used to protect my people from Dragons is of the utmost importance.”

“Of course.”  Farengar agreed, “Hopefully… what’s your name dear?”

“Saadia.”

“Hopefully Saadia will prove to be an able assistant.”  He looked back to some books and notes on his table, “I have some translations from ancient texts that will aid me in my reading of the tablet.  I can work on them until Saadia returns.  It will take quite a while to translate everything.”  He warned, “But if the Dragonstone is returned to me; I will have an answer for you my Jarl, I am sure of it.” 

“Alright,” Saadia said, “I’ll be on my way then.”  She turned and nearly bumped into a servant, bringing her a beautifully crafted suit of steel armour, far superior to the armour she as wearing.  Her mouth opened in surprise as she took the proffered gift.  She looked back to the Jarl.  “Thank you…”  She whispered.  He gave her a small smile.  The kind of smile a man gives someone he’s starting to warm up to. 

“You will head out early on the morrow.”  The Jarl said and when Farengar started to protest he held up his hand to silence him.  “I can tell that you have run the entire distance between Riverwood and my fair city.”  Balgruuf said, “you should spend a few hours here to rest and meet my people before you do us another great service.”  He said.  “Have one of my servants give you enough gold to cover your stay at the inn.”  He added.  “I insist.”  He added with the tone of voice that only comes from a person who is never disobeyed. 

He dismissed them and returned to his throne.  Farengar gave her a shrug and turned back to his work.

Saadia sighed and started to head out.  A servant appeared from nowhere and handed her 50 gold coins. 

“Enjoy your stay at the inn.  Do you need directions?”

“Thanks, and no… no directions needed.”  Saadia answered and headed out of the castle.

She headed back down the stairs, looking out across the city, thinking that she might go to the inn and just stay in her room and read the books she kept.  Part of her rebelled at that; her whole life had been spent locked in rooms, reading books or training to protect the mothers and beauties. 

It was nearing lunch time, so she had plenty of time to explore Whiterun after a hearty meal at the inn.

Maybe she’d sit in the inn and listen to the townsfolk talk for a while before she explored the city.  With any luck there’d be a bard; she’d read about bards and the bardic tradition, and she so wanted to hear a bard sing. 

Besides, she wanted to live in this Hold; she had decided.  So it would be good to know the people of the Hold’s capital city.  And what better place to get to know them than at their inn?

She looked over to Jorrvaskr, wondering if she should go in there.  Meet this Kodlak, Aela had mentioned, join their ranks… have sex with that gorgeous man… and possibly also with that gorgeous woman… but she had a feeling Aela would be more interested in hunting together than rutting. 

She walked past the hall again, and instead headed down the stairs to the level that housed the inn: The Bannered Mare. 

 

***

 

Vilkas sipped his ale and watched his Companions drinking and celebrating.

The local farmers had asked to celebrate them in this way; thanking them for slaying the giant that had been causing so much devastation, and Skjor had agreed that it was a good idea, even though Kodlak was abstaining.  Skjor reasoned that it fostered good spirit with the townsfolk and Kodlak had agreed, though he stayed in his room, reading his books. 

The Companions usually celebrated in their own hall, but when the townsfolk wanted to throw a party for them, it was always at the Bannered Mare. 

Aela had reminded Vilkas that as a senior member of the Companions, and a member of the Circle, he should come along and encourage the more junior members, as well as be seen by the townsfolk to help garner their continued support, and quite frankly, adoration, of the Companions.  It helped for when one of the whelps got into a fight they should have walked away from and ended up in the keep’s jail. 

Every wench, of every gender, was out plying their trade at the inn, called in from Gropekunte Lane, selling their services to anyone who could afford them, and it seemed like half of Whiterun was in the inn or the outside back-garden of the inn, to celebrate, so they were making a lot of coin. 

The bard, a mediocre bard, struck up a song in celebration of the Companions and everyone sang along rowdily. 

Vilkas noticed several people eyeing off his twin brother lustfully, but Farkas was sweet talking a travelling Wood Elf, making her giggle. 

An Elf – giggling when there was so many Nords around. 

Vilkas rolled his eyes and took another sip of ale.  He’d lectured his brother on self-control far too many times.  He wasn’t going to do it again.  He just had to accept that they both had different strengths and one of Farkas’s strengths was his ability to bed almost anyone he looked at.  He seemed to just be able to wink and they’d drop their pants. 

Vilkas had been envious of Farkas when they had been younger; they looked the same!  How was it that Farkas had such success when Vilkas could find much less success in this realm?  But Vilkas had come to accept himself; he wasn’t built the same way Farkas was.  Farkas had an easy, uncomplicated, one could say simple, charm.  Vilkas was more complicated… or at least he always managed to complicate everything. 

Skjor was fond of saying that Farkas had the strength of Ysgramor, and Vilkas had his smarts. 

But sometimes being as unsmart as Farkas was, was the true smartness.  Vilkas mulled that thought over as he watched his brother in action, he touched the cheek of the Wood Elf and she blushed and looked down coyly while Farkas obviously said the right words to charm her, whispering them into her ear. 

“He’s at it again.”  Aela sat down next to him, slapping away the hand of a man that went to her thigh.  “Touch me again and you’ll pull back a bleeding stump.”  She growled.  The man backed off and Vilkas had to smile at Aela’s way of handling unwanted attention. 

“I know.”  Vilkas looked away, refusing to watch his brother for one minute longer, training his eyes on the door instead. 

“Isn’t Kodlak worried that…”  She looked around, making sure that no one could hear them, “Isn’t he worried about that kind of thing in public places.”  She tempered her words.

“Farkas has it under control.”  Vilkas answered, “Skjor agrees that there’s no danger.” 

Vilkas watched as Aela’s eyes turned to Skjor, a warrior 2 decades her senior, but just as strong as he ever was. 

Vilkas knew that look; he’d seen that look so many times before.  But he knew she’d cover it, repress it, she’d look away, she’d drink her drink and curl her lip angrily at anyone who came near her.  That was her way. 

“If you’re sure.”  She said, “I’ll stop keeping an eye on the oaf.”  She said and got up, heading over to Ria.  She had taken a personal interest in forwarding this girl’s skills, so she was especially happy that Ria was getting so much attention for the giant kill – she deserved it. 

Vilkas kept his eyes on the door and wondered if he should take up one of these wenches on their offers.  He might not have the charms of Farkas, but he still had needs. 

 

***

 

As soon as she opened the door an earthy woman called over to her.

“Come on in!  Let me know what you need, or take a seat by the fire and I’ll send someone over!”  She invited Saadia in.

In typical Nord fashion, the inn was large, with a firepit, decorated wooden columns holding up the roof and free-flowing mead and ale. 

But today was particularly rowdy.  It seemed like there was far too many people in the inn – more than could safely fit in there.  And most of them seem heartily drunk. 

“Thanks!”  Saadia called back to the woman and looked around for somewhere to sit down. 

The bard struck up another song and she watched, enraptured by his tale; she recognised that he was telling the tale of a giant being slain by the Companions and she saw Ria being praised as the song continued. 

She understood that this was a celebration in honour of today’s giant-slaying. 

She was glad that she got to be here for this. 

 

***

 

Vilkas noticed the stranger, a tall, hefty woman; solid muscle with a decent layer of fat over the top denoting a body made fit from fighting and good health, dark skin, long dark red hair held back in braids… but it was her eyes that were most striking.  One was amber yellow, common in Redguard women.  And the other was sky blue. 

Vilkas had never really talked to many Redguard people in Whiterun; there weren’t many here.  But he supposed he could make the effort to do so now, since she was moving over towards the empty seats near him. 

She was still looking at the bard, and hadn’t really looked in his direction.  She sat down at his table, her back to him and watched the bard, utterly bewitched by him, a smile on her face. 

When the song finished she turned, an apology on her lips, but she stopped mid-word.

“Farkas?”  She furrowed her brows.  But his hair was shorter, his stubble more under control, and while this man’s body was just as muscled as Farkas’s it didn’t look quite as big, and while she found him attractive, there wasn’t that something extra, like a magnetism that pulled her to him.  “Twins.”  She understood and Vilkas nodded with a sour smile.

“I see you’ve met my younger brother.”  He noted.  His voice was different, but just as sexy as Farkas’s. 

Saadia’s head dropped to the side; she couldn’t believe there were two of these men in the world.  

“Yeah I met him earlier today.”  She answered. 

“He meets so many people, it’s hard to keep up with all of them.”  Vilkas had had to deal with many ex-lovers of Farkas’s coming to him for comfort, expecting him to be the second place prize, so he was always wary of meeting new people who claimed to know his brother.  Saadia understood from Vilkas’s words that Farkas slept with a lot of people, and he was apparently annoyed by that for multiple reasons.  

“Well I only met him momentarily.”  She said.

“Must be why he didn’t mention you.”  Vilkas replied. 

“I don’t think I’m very memorable.”  Saadia said honestly.

“Oh you’re wrong about that.”  Vilkas answered. 

She gave him an unsure smile.

“I’m Saadia.”  She said and Vilkas took a deep breath; that was a beautiful name.

“Vilkas.”  He said simply. 

There was a jolt on the bench beside her and she turned to see Farkas sitting next to her, a huge smile on his face.

“I was hoping to see you at Jorrvaskr.”  He said, “But here will do.”  He gave her a gorgeous smile and she felt her innards start to melt; he was stunning. 

Vilkas looked over to the Wood Elf, sitting, looking glum, and then back to his brother, staring at Saadia with real interest.  He’d never seen his brother be rude to a prospective bed-mate like that before.  But then, he’d never seen his brother looking at anyone like this before. 

“I never got your name.”  Farkas said and Saadia grinned at him.

“Saadia.”

“Beautiful name.”  He said, “For a beautiful woman.”  She laughed with disbelief and Vilkas was seeing up close just how Farkas worked.  Again.  He cleared his throat and was about to excuse himself when she turned back to him.

“I just met your brother.”  She said and Farkas turned to give his brother a winning smile. 

“He’s the smart one.”  Farkas said, “But I’ll punch anyone I don’t like who says that.” 

“He loves a good fight.”  Vilkas said.

“Don’t we all?”  Farkas said with a big grin. 

“I was telling him how we met earlier today.”  Saadia told Farkas. 

“And I annoyed Aela by inviting you to join the Companions.”  Farkas chuckled. 

“Farkas.”  Vilkas rebuked his brother. 

“I understand that it’s an exclusive club.”  Saadia said to Vilkas and Vilkas shook his head.

“I’m sorry, but we don’t normally just invite people to join.  It’s not for us to say-”

“Yeah I know.  Kodlak.”  Saadia said.  This whole time Farkas was staring at her as she spoke. 

“Sometimes the junior members do that, but us senior members are expected to be better behaved.”  Vilkas said pointedly but Farkas was too busy staring at Saadia to get his drift. 

“Well I’ll be too busy running errands for the Jarl to join, so don’t worry.”  Saadia said, surprised at how sad this made her. 

“That’s a shame.”  Farkas said.

“What sort of errands?”  Vilkas asked.

“I don’t know if I’m allowed to say?”  Saadia answered.  She looked around the crowded inn.  “I definitely can’t discuss it here.”

“Of course.”  Vilkas answered, “Perhaps one day you will visit Jorrvaskr and we can talk then?”

Saadia was about to reply, but Farkas spoke.

“If you like talk, there’s no one better than my brother.”  He boasted.  “He’s got the smarts of Ysgramor.”

“No…”  Vilkas protested and looked down, embarrassed by Farkas’s pride in him.

“It’s true brother.”  Farkas said and turned to Saadia, “Smartest person I know besides Kodlak.  And they’re always talking together about things I don’t understand.”  He shrugged, a happy smile on his face, “Just point me in the direction of what needs bludgeoning.”  He explained himself. 

“I think I should go.”  Vilkas said, “I’ve got a job tomorrow.”  He said.

“The bear in Riften?”  Farkas asked and Vilkas nodded.

“I have to leave for Riften early.”  He gave Saadia a genuine, but tight smile, “Enjoy your time in Whiterun.”  He looked at Farkas, “Have fun.”  He clapped his brother on the shoulder and headed towards the door.  Saadia watched him for a moment before turning back to Farkas. 

“You’re very different.”  She noted.

“We’ve shared our whole lives.”  Farkas said, “From the womb to this day, we’ve always been together… we’re very alike as well.”  He said and then shrugged and looked down into his mug.  “But you don’t have a drink!”  He called over for drinks and turned back to her.

“Sorry your brother left.”  She said, looking at the door as it closed behind Vilkas.

“He’d rather be reading up in his history books than in a tavern.”  Farkas shrugged.  “It’s not that he doesn’t enjoy a good party; he just prefers it in Jorrvaskr than here.”  Farkas explained, “He’s happier there… but it probably wouldn’t hurt him to bed more people.”  He considered, “But it’s not his way.”

“He does seem to be wound a little tight.”  Saadia agreed.

“I’m glad you share my views on that topic.”  He said with a lusty grin. 

She saw his intent and hesitated.

“I’ve only been in Skyrim for 2 days!”  She protested.

“This is your second day here?”  He asked, “Where were you before?  Hammerfell?”

“Cyrodiil.”  She said taking a sip of the mead the barmaid had just handed her.  It was good; there was a hint of spices in the honey brew.  She knew she shouldn’t talk about it, but she trusted this big, fun, fight-loving, charmer of a man.  She didn’t know why, especially since she sensed something hidden about him.  That deep sense of lust for the hunt that she saw behind his eyes.  She saw it in Aela and Vilkas too.  She knew that they were all senior members of the Companions and wondered if that had something to do with it. 

“What’s it like in Cyrodiil?”

“I don’t know.”  She answered, “Until about 3 days ago I had spent my entire life secluded in my father’s home.”  She said.

“You some sort o’ royalty?”  Farkas asked.

“What?”  Saadia asked, “No…”

“Why else were you kept away from everyone?”

“I think my father’s… beliefs were not really accepted by other people.  So he chose to leave this world behind and create his own little world.  A world that was perfect to him.”  She took a sip of her drink and thought about holding her tongue; the more anyone knew, the more likely she’d be found by her family.  “So what are the Companions?”  She changed the topic. 

“The Companions are my family.”  Farkas answered.

“And you all… fight a lot?”  She noted.

“We fight so that other people don't have to.”  He answered, obviously proud of the work he did, “We bring honour and glory to ourselves and each other.”

“Is that why you joined?”  She asked, “To help people.  To gain honour and glory?”

“Oh, Vilkas and I have been in Jorrvaskr since we were little whelps.”  He answered with a fond smile, “Our father, Jergen, raised us there.  Even Vignar couldn't remember Companions younger than us!”  He intimated.  But she didn’t know who Vignar was, so she didn’t understand what he meant by that.  She assumed that Vignar was a very old man who had been in the Companions for a long time.  “You know, I've never been a smart one.  But the Companions welcome anyone with the heart of a warrior.”  She could tell he had found his home with these people.  “When we step into battle, we fight for our own name, and the name of the Companions.”

“You sound pretty smart to me.”  She answered and Farkas gave her a warm smile.

“I like you.”  He said honestly.  “Most people think I’m dumb.  They get my fist.”  He told her.  “You, I like.”  He repeated.

“I think that maybe most people only appreciate one type of smarts.”  Saadia answered, “And they’re missing out by having such a narrow definition of intelligence.” 

Farkas stared at her for a moment and grunted.

“You have to talk to Kodlak.  Old man will definitely like you.” 

“I’ll think about it.”  Saadia knew she’d think about it a lot; the Companions were a very inviting prospect for a woman with no one in this whole world. 

“Why did you come to Skyrim?”  He asked her.  She noticed that he wasn’t trying to get her into bed anymore; he was just making conversation.  She wondered if the moment had passed with him.  Sometimes that happened. 

“Oh you know, I just needed a nice peaceful place to flee from my family to.”  She joked and he gave a snort of a laugh.  “I had no idea about the civil war… or Dragons.”  She sighed.  “Who do you favour in the war?”  She wondered.

“Too confusing for me.”  He shrugged, “Empire, Nords, Talos.  Who cares?  Just tell me what needs killing.”

“Fair enough.”  Saadia answered.  “Do they do this for you often?”  She asked, “The townsfolk I mean?”

“About once a month.”  He looked around grinning.

“They love you.”  She marvelled.  And then she turned back to him, “And several people have their eye on you Farkas.”  She said, “I don’t think you’ll be going to your bed alone tonight.”

“I hope not.”  He gave her a smutty grin.  “Since you’re new to Skyrim, perhaps I can show you some Nord hospitality.”  He suggested, leaning in closer to her. 

She chuckled, still not sure if she should get into this so soon after arriving in Skyrim, but her body was wanting to yield to her desire, completely. 

“Oh Farkas…”  She sighed, “I don’t know.” 

He leaned back and gave her a nod.

“Alright.”  He said, “You’ve shown that you’re unsure.  So we drink, and we talk, and at the end of the night, I give you a kiss on the cheek, if you’ll let me, and I go home.  And hopefully, I’ll get to see you again another time.”  He raised his tankard to her and drained it, calling for another. 

“You’re just saying that to get me naked.”  Saadia knew that men played games like that; she’d read about it so many times. 

But Farkas shook his head. 

“My brother told me many moons ago when we were both young and just beginning to think of bedding people, he said that Skjor had told him that when it comes to rutting, if someone doesn’t give you permission to touch them, you don’t.”  He said, “He asked me how I would feel if someone did that kind of thing to me.”  She could see how sincere he was, “it stayed with me.”  He picked up his new drink and took a sip, “That and the fact that one time Aela punched me so hard in the balls I passed out.” 

Saadia burst out laughing.

“And that was just for accidentally touching her arse.”  Farkas said laughing along with her, “I know not to touch without permission.”  He assured her, suddenly serious, “but just so you know, if you give me the word, I’ll-”

She kissed him, cutting his sentence off mid-word, her hands holding his face.

A deep, long, passionate kiss, filled with her fiery desire for him. 

At first Farkas was shocked; it had been quite unexpected, even to Saadia, but he quickly fell into the rhythm of the kiss, pulling her closer, his hands gripping her hips lustfully.

She stopped just as suddenly, took a gulp of her drink and cleared her throat.

“That was…”  Farkas said, a little breathlessly, also taking a big gulp of his drink, still stunned by the force and passion of it.

“Sorry.”  Saadia said and took another sip of her drink.

“No I liked it-”

Again she kissed him, this time he was more prepared and by the time she pulled away he had pulled her onto his lap. 

She liked how strong he was; she was not a light woman. 

She slid off his lap and looked around the tavern.  She knew a few people had noticed, but mostly everyone was too drunk, and too busy singing songs to notice their indiscretion. 

“I have to get a room for the night.”  She said even though it was still the lunch hour.  She was looking down at her drink but Farkas was unable to take his lust-filled eyes off her.  “So I’ll just…”  She got up, stumbling slightly, not looking at him because she knew if she did, she’d kiss him again, “I’ll go do that.” 

“Yeah.”  He breathed, his eyes not leaving her as she set out across the crowded inn to the barkeep. 

He watched her pay for the room and get her key.  Watched her look up at him, their eyes meeting across the room, only momentarily before her eyes dropped and she went to her room.

Farkas paused, unsure if that had been an invitation or a rebuff. 

“Only one way to find out.”  He said to himself and got up, going to her room. 

He knocked on the door and she opened it, pulled him in and slammed the door shut behind him, kissing him aggressively. 

And that was all the consent Farkas needed.  He pulled her to him, lifting her up, lacing her legs around his waist; her heaviness was a welcome challenge to a man that enjoyed being physically challenged. 

They slammed into the wall, the armour on her back riding up the smooth wood as she pulled at the laces on his armour and his hands gripped her arse through her leather pants.

His armour fell noisily to the floor and she began unlacing her own, her lips hungrily pressed against his.

He kissed just as ferociously as she did, with equal measures of passion and fire.  This was going to be good – he’d be able to keep up with her. 

When she’d undone her own laces Farkas let her legs go and she slid them down to stand before him as she dropped her armour to the floor.  He took in her ragged undergarments, the shape of her body and then locked eyes with her as his hand went to her neck, feeling the smoothness of her skin, travelling down her shoulder, her chest, to where the laces were above her breasts.  He slowly, deliberately, unlaced them, the desire he felt for her electrifying the air between them.

His hands were warm on her skin as he smoothly pulled her tunic off, his hands on her body the whole time, letting the fall to the floor.

He turned his attention to the leather strips holding her two braids in place and slowly released her hair, letting it fall down her back in lose, deep red curls.

Such slow, careful, deliberate actions… followed by a sound of tearing seams as he pulled his own tunic off over his head without bothering to unlace, mussing his hair and revealing his toned, muscled torso, laced with scars.

Saadia ran a finger along a scar that twisted down from his shoulder over his chest.  She knew this kind of scar; he’d tangoed with a sword. 

His hand ran over a scar on her shoulder; he recognised a fellow warrior.

Saadia had to appreciate that Farkas had slowed their fire down, turning it to molten lava.  Not many men could do that; once the fire and passion started they rushed in head first and it was all over far too soon.

Farkas obviously wanted it to last.  And Saadia could only agree with him on that.

He started to unlace her pants, his eyes again locked on her eyes, his lust palpable, but his actions slow, deliberately drawing it out, increasing her anticipation.

She let him play that game; it was so delicious to build the desire like this.

As soon as he had her naked they kissed deeply and he hoisted her up again, her legs again wrapping around his waist, as he walked them to the bed. 

Saadia was impressed by his strength as he gently laid her on the bed and his lips left hers, kissing down her neck as he knelt between her thighs, his pants rubbing against her skin delightfully. 

She ran her hands through his hair as he kissed her breasts, his hands firm, his tongue teasing.  But when she expected him to come back to her mouth, his journey of kisses continued down her body.

“What…?”  She asked but her question was answered by his mouth on her kunte.

She gasped with instant pleasure as his tongue slid across her clit.

The sailors she’d managed to sneak out to bed back on the Isle of Stirk never did this…

She tilted her hips up, pushing herself against his open mouth and gripped his hair, eliciting a lusty groan from him as he pushed his hands under her buttocks and raised her hips further, licking her with real enthusiasm.

Saadia had masturbated before, of course she had.  And while she found women attractive, she’d only managed to bed male sailors; so this kind of erotic pleasure was entirely new to her.

And she liked it. 

She had a feeling she’d be riding Farkas’s face every chance she got.  Especially since he so clearly enjoyed doing it. 

He licked in a long line from her arse to her clit and she moaned deeply in lustful pleasure.

“Again.”  She whispered.

He gave an appreciative sound and did as he was told without pause.

“Again.”  She groaned

“Hmm, yes ma’am.”  He willingly obeyed. 

“Now stay there…”  She ordered urgently as his tongue flicked the most sensitive part of her clitoris.  “A little harder…”   She rolled her head back and gripped the bed with her other hand when Farkas slid two fingers inside of her. 

The bliss was building in her, building tension, like a water skin slowly expanding as it was filled; she was filling up with a frenzy of pleasure, pressing against the walls of any decorum she thought she might have...

And he undid her.

Pleasure crashed through her like waves upon the shore and she moaned – screamed with orgasm.

She squeezed her thick thighs around his head, her fingers gripping both the bed and his hair violently, her body shaking with delectable waves of bliss. 

He straightened up, kneeling between her legs, his hair a mess, his face gleaming with her cum, lust and satisfaction in his eyes, his hands going to the lacings on his pants.

“It was good?”  He asked her, but his tone of voice made it clear that he knew damn well it was better than good.

She nodded in a post-orgasmic glow.  He ran his fingers over her sensitive kunte and she moaned in delight.  “You’re so wet.” 

“You like that.”  She could tell how much that turned him on.  He nodded as he lowered his pants and Saadia’s eyes opened wide.

He had one of the biggest cocks she’d ever seen, and certainly the biggest one she had ever tried to put inside of herself.  And he seemed completely unaware of the monster he’d just unleashed, he was focused on his hand running up her thigh, his fingertips tracing along her wet labia. 

“You ready?”  He asked and she shook her head, not because she wasn’t ready but because she couldn’t believe he was asking.  “No?”  He asked, his lustful expression turning to one of concern. 

“No, I’m ready!”  She corrected herself, “I’ve just never had a man ask me before.”  She explained and he gave a grunt of understanding.

“It hurts if you’re not ready.”  He said simply.  “I don’t want it to hurt you.”  He gently traced his fingers along her labia again, “I don’t wanna do it if you don’t.”  He added, “That matters to me.”

“Understood.”  Saadia answered.  She knew only too well that sex could hurt if she wasn’t turned on enough; if she wasn’t ready for the penetration.  And that wasn’t to say that she hadn’t had great sex, it was just that, in her experience, far too many men were more interested in getting their rocks off to care how it felt for her. 

“I am ready Farkas.”  She assured him and he gave her a smile as he leaned down to her, kissing her lips, reigniting the fire.

She felt his hard cock pressing against her and tilted her hips up, inviting him in. 

He gently pushed the head of his cock against her opening, slowly sliding in, watching her face as he did so.

Saadia’s eyes rolled back in her head and she gave a guttural groan.

He slid back and forth slowly, both of them revelling in the feel of their bodies united in this way, her hand gripping his back as he slowly sped up, going a little deeper and harder with each thrust.

“Farkas…”  She whispered to him as he dropped his head to her shoulder, still keeping his weight off her chest.

“Yes?”  His breath voice in her ear.

“Fuck me.”  She didn’t want either of them to hold back.

“Yes Ma’am.”  He barely got the words out before his mouth was on hers, his tongue slipping across hers sinuously, his hips finding a good, strong, hard rhythm. 

Saadia grunted with each hard thrust, her mouth all over him, kissing his mouth, his cheeks, his neck, chest… biting his shoulders.

He seemed to like that. 

Boy knew how to fuck.

One hand kept himself propped up while the other freely explored her body, his hands roughly enjoying her strong, curvy body; more than once returning to her breasts to squeeze them, tease her nipples and then travel down along the curve of her waist to her hip.

Without warning he easily flipped her over onto her stomach, pulling her hips up so that her arse was raised before him, her breasts pressed into the bed. 

He slid back into her, his fingers digging into her big round arse, spreading her wide so he could watch himself be enveloped by her wet kunte.

Saadia pushed back against him, finding the rhythm and grinding her hips into him, rocking back and forth in ecstasy. 

Farkas watched as she whipped her hair back and looked over her shoulder at him.  She was magnificent. 

His hands went from her arse, to her hips, to her waist, and she rose to press her back against his stomach and chest as his hands again cupped her breasts, his hot mouth on her neck.

He ran a hand down her body, to find her clitoris, pressing himself into her back, this physical closeness felt like they might meld into one another. 

He rubbed her clit and thrust into her aggressively, his other hand back to squeezing her breast and Saadia tried not to melt into a puddle of contentment; this was what rutting was all about and she hadn’t realised it until this time. 

Farkas slowed down, sliding the full length of his cock in and out of her as he traced patterns around her clit – teasing her, making her want to beg him to just rub her clit again.  Instead she leaned back and kissed his full lips, Farkas leaning forward over her shoulder eagerly wanting to taste her mouth again. 

He slowed down almost to the point of not moving, but she was spellbound by his lips gently brushing hers, his hand going up to her cheek to gently caress her skin.

“You’re so beautiful.”  He marvelled and she once again didn’t know how to react to that, or the intensity with which he stared into her eyes.  But she felt quite swept away with it; his fire was oh so seductive.

A moment longer of silent wonderment and his fingers finally returned to her clit, gently squeezing it, making her gasp as he again started to thrust hard; much harder than previously, holding her body to him like she weighed nothing.  She loved it; she loved feeling weightless, like he could throw her over his shoulder if he so wanted.  It was unlikely he actually could… although he was very strong – it made Saadia wonder if he could. 

And that thought – the thought of someone who was actually physically strong enough for her was ecstatic. 

His fingers on her clit.

His breath in her skin.

His mouth on her neck.

His huge cock slamming into her.

She was moaning with complete abandon, not even knowing how loud she was as she came again.

But he kept going; he wasn’t done yet, much to Saadia’s surprise.  Farkas had the stamina to match his lust and sexual longevity. 

Saadia knew she’d be fucking this man as many times as she could.  Especially since, like her, he wasn’t interested in having just one partner for the rest of his life; he was sexually open and exciting. 

She put her hands against the wall as he hammered her as hard as he could, his hands on her hips, digging in brutally, but somehow it was a sweet pain that accentuated the sweet pleasure in her kunte. 

And again he slowed, kissing her back, panting with the physical exertion.

“Tired?”  She teased.

“No way.”  He boasted; but she knew it was no empty boast, “Just don’t wanna blow yet.”  He explained. 

“Is that right?”  Saadia asked and turned pushed him hard so he landed on his back on the bed; it was time to ride him. 

He very obviously enjoyed her strength; he grinned smuttily and held his hand out to her, motioning for her to climb on top – which she gladly did.

She looked down at him, her hands running up her body as she rocked her hips.

“You know Farkas… we can do this again tonight.”  She intimated, “I’m off on an errand for the Jarl tomorrow…. But I’ve got all day today to… explore Whiterun...”  She said suggestively.

“Well you’ll have to let me show you around.”  He said, equally as suggestively, his hands running up her thighs, his hips beginning to find her rhythm and thrust up from beneath her.  She squeezed her Kegel muscles and he groaned appreciatively.

“So you can let yourself go now…”  She whispered sexily into his ear, her rhythm speeding up, his hands gripping her arse.  She kissed his neck.  “Fill me up with your cum.”  She breathed the words and he groaned deeply. 

He kissed her, his fingers in her hair, the other hand gently stroking her jawline.

He looked into her eyes, again knocking Saadia off balance – she wasn’t used to this kind of intimate intensity.  Sometimes she never even looked at the men she bedded, or kissed them… But Farkas was very keen to look at her, to stare into her eyes, to find a connection.

It was scary, vulnerable, intimidating – it made her feel naked in a way that was far more real than just not wearing clothes…

And she liked it. 

He came with a loud groan, his eyes closing, a blissful expression on his face, his hands moving down to her hips to keep her moving for a little longer than she was used to after male orgasm.

And then more unexpected behaviour – he kissed her, pulled her into his arms and laid beside her, grinning as he stared up at the ceiling. 

“It looked like you enjoyed it.”  Farkas said softly.

“I did.”  Saadia answered and Farkas nodded, satisfied.

“It also seemed like…”  He paused, as if worried he might insult her.

“What?”  Saadia worried about what her apparent inexperience had made her deficient in.  She hadn’t even realised that the sexual education she’d had at the hands of the sailors had been lacking until now.  Now she realised it had been so very lacking.

“It seemed like you never had a Dibellan Kiss before?”  He seemed to think that this was an absurdity that couldn’t be true.

“Dibellan Kiss?”

“When I kissed your kunte.”  He answered with no judgement, more curiosity that she might have never experienced it before. 

“My father hates that word.”  She said softly.

“Kunte?  What else should I call it?” 

“He had us call them all ‘nether regions’ and said that beyond that all we had to know is that girls had holes and boys had poles to fill them.”

Farkas gave a disapproving grunt and she cocked an eyebrow at him in query.

“I don’t know…”  He said reluctantly, “It’s not what I’ve experienced.”  He added and she continued to give him a querying look, “As far as I can tell, there are holes and poles, and everything in between, and things I’d never even imagined, and you never know who might own what, so there’s no use trying to figure out what’s in someone’s britches until you’re taking them off, and since you never know for sure what you’ll get, you might as well keep an open mind and pay attention to what your bed-mate likes so you learn it.”  He said simply, but he was obviously worried he was wrong, “I know that more women have… holes.”  He seemed to hate that word for it, “And more men have poles.  But it’s not always the case.”

“I know.”  Saadia answered, “I read about it in one of his books.”  She said, “I don’t mind that the Nords use the word kunte for it.”  She said.

“A lot of people in Skyrim, whether Nord or no use that word.”  He clarified.

“My mother used to joke that’s why my father left Skyrim.”  Saadia gave him a sad smile.  “It’s not true of course, but it was fun to laugh at him when we could.”  She lowered her eyes, worrying about her mother.  She knew that when she could she’d have to go back and free as many of them as wanted to come with her.

One day. 

“He seems like he’s a bag full of skeever nuts.”  Farkas said, aiming to cheer her up and she laughed, “As nice as a horker’s hairy arsehole.”  He added and Saadia laughed again.  “You want me to get you a bowl of clean water and some food and drink?”  He asked as he sat up.

“Yeah thanks.”  She replied, sitting up too.  “You didn’t ask me again.”  She noted and he looked back at her as he picked his pants up, a questioning expression on his face.  “About the Dibellan Kiss.”  She explained.

“I figured you didn’t want to answer my question.”  He shrugged.

She liked how simple, accepting and uncomplicated he was. 

“It was my first Dibellan Kiss.”  She told him and he gave her a smutty grin; this obviously intrigued him.  “And I liked it very much.”

“I’m glad.”  He seemed pleased by her words.  “I’ll have to do it again.”

“You will!”  She agreed with a huge grin, “and I’d like to give you a Dibellan Kiss too.”  She answered and he cocked an eyebrow at her.

“You’re welcome to.” 

“You’ll have to guide me through it.”  She said saucily.

“It’s easy.”  He laughed, “You’ll see.”  He pulled his pants on and left the room without lacing them up, saying, “I’ll be back soon.”  Over his shoulder.

Saadia sat up and looking in the looking glass for a moment. 

She knew that even though she was ugly, people still wanted to have sex with her; all sorts of people. 

But Farkas seemed to think she was beautiful.  It was strange to her.

On the Isle of Stirk, she had been a Shield-maiden: one of the ugly ones. 

She looked away and looked through her bag for the dress that Sigrid had given her. 

She put it on and found that it was a little too big in the stomach and too small in the arms, shoulders, hips and chest.  Nonetheless she looked in the mirror at herself wearing a lady’s clothing and wondered what her life in Skyrim would hold.  She felt semen begin to dribble out of her vagina and sighed, knowing she had to keep the dress away from it; she had no way to wash this dress at the moment.

“Dress needs re-sizing.”  Farkas said as he came back in, “Sigurd can do that.”  He added, “He works at Belethor’s General Goods.” 

“Thanks.”  Saadia said and stripped the dress off.

“Bath water is coming.”  He added, noting the mess he’d left between her legs.

“Thank you.”  She said gratefully, looking around the room for the first time. 

“Hulda’s just hired a new barmaid named Saadia too.”  Farkas sat on the bed and laid out the food and drinks he’d gotten.

“From Hammerfell?”  Saadia asked with real curiosity.

“Yes.”  Farkas answered.  “You both came to Whiterun on the same day.” 

“What a coincidence.”  Saadia mused and there was a knock on the door.

Farkas got up and got the door, taking the water from Hulda without letting her see into the room.

“Thanks.”  He said with a warm tone and the old woman only made a half-hearted attempt to snoop into the room before Farkas gently closed the door in her face. 

The water was cold.  Of course.  And the flannel was rough.  Of course.  But it was nice to get clean again. 

She sat down beside Farkas and had some cheese, bread and apples with spiced mead. 

“Spiced mead is the finest drink.”  Farkas said as he drained his cup.

“I’m used to water.”  Saadia answered, “But this is nice.”  She took a sip, and then had a bite of the sweet red apple. 

They sat talking and laughing for a long time, before Saadia pushed Farkas back on the bed and took her first taste of giving a Dibellan Kiss.

She had liked it; she enjoyed how he groaned, and the way his hips moved, his fingers tangled in her hair, his head rolling back. 

It wasn’t the only time she partook in that pleasure, or many other pleasures before the morn broke clear and pale.

 


	2. Part 2

 

When she woke up, Farkas’s big arms were wrapped around her, their legs tangled together, his breath tickling the back of her neck. 

They had barely slept at all, instead fucking and talking all night.  She yawned and listened to the inn waking up and preparing for breakfast on the other side of her door. 

She was sore and satisfied in a way she’d never been before. 

She was going to like Skyrim very much.  She grinned to herself and tried to wake Farkas but he grumbled and held her tighter. 

“I have to go.”  She whispered gently to him.  “Business of the Jarl.”

He groaned and rolled over, giving her a bleary-eyed look.

“Want me to come with?”  He asked sleepily.

“No, it’s a pretty easy task.  I can handle it myself.”  She stroked his hair out of his face and he gave her a content smile.  “I’ve got the room for today and tonight too.”  She told him, “So you can sleep for as long as you want.”  She was expecting to stay here tonight after completing the Jarl’s business, and then heading back to Riverwood to see how Hadvar was going and to let Alvor know that some guards would be sent to protect them. 

“I’ve got a job to do clearing out a cave near here.”  He said, “Some bandits messing with traders.”  He explained, “But other than that, I’ll be around all day today.”  He said suggestively.  Saadia ran a hand down his chest.

“As soon as I get back I’ll come find you.”  She promised.

“Good.”  He yawned and got up to go outside to pee, kissing her temple before he left the room.

Saadia went to the chest in the room where she’d put all of her things and opened it to look at the steel armour Jarl Balgruuf had given her. 

She put her tunic on and then put the steel on over the top.

It fit perfectly.

It was as if the servant had sized her up and chosen the armour accordingly, or done the alterations needed before giving it to her.  She didn’t know that Farengar had enchanted all the armour in the Jarl’s armoury to fit whoever was its rightful owner perfectly. 

Useful enchantment.

She noticed that her new armour had two weapon holders at the nape of her neck; she could put her axe and her bow in these and the weight would be distributed over her shoulder and keep her hands free.

Next she noted a small satchel attached to the waist of the armour.  It was made of a strange stretchy material.  She put her healing potion in it and noticed that bag didn’t change its shape.  She put one of the books she’d saved to read in it, and still the tiny satchel didn’t change shapes. 

“What?””  She asked as she decided to try and put her old Imperial armour in it.

It fit, and the satchel didn’t change size or shape.  She could feel the weight of the satchel, but the bag remained the same size.

“Magic…”  She said in awe as she put her other belonging in the satchel.  She was right – another one of Farengar’s enchantments.  She knew that when she eventually got new armour, she’d take this bag and attach it to her new armour – it was too good to let go.

When Farkas came back in he gave her an impressed look.

“Good armour.”  He said knocking on the breast plate.  “Working for the Jarl has its perks.” 

“Your armour’s better.”  She noted, looking at the beautiful armour strewn across the floor.

“Being a Companion has its perks too.” 

“Still angling for me to join?”

“You know it.”  He gave her a knowing grin. 

“Your brother will be very unimpressed with you.”  She teased and Farkas shrugged.  “I’ll get us some breakfast.”  She said as he flopped back into the bed.

When she got to the counter, Hulda put a small purple flower on the counter in front of her.

“First one’s free.  But I usually charge 5 gold.”  She said softly.  Saadia gave her a quizzical look.  “It’s a newly bloomed deathbell flower.”  She said, “They’re usually blue; but those ones are fatal.”  Hulda explained, “But these little purple beauties… make sure the seed don’t take inside your womb.”

“Oh…” Saadia felt herself blush.

“No need to be embarrassed girl, half the people in Whiterun would climb that pole if they could.”  She noted, “And the other half would do his brother if he’d let ‘em.”  She added.  “The Wolf brothers are very popular around here.” 

“Wolf brothers?”

“You didn’t notice the wolf insignia on their armour?”  She asked, “It’s true that all the Circle members of the Companions have that insignia, but there’s only the one set of twins.”  She said with a gleam in her eye, “Oh if I were younger they’d both be in trouble!”  She chuckled.  Hulda held the flower out to her, “Always take one within a few days of laying with a man.”  She said.

“Thank you.”  Saadia said and took it gratefully.  She had used a poisonous fish that swam in the shallows around the Isle of Stirk for the same thing – her sister had taught her that trick.  “Can I have a hearty, but quick breakfast please?”

“Absolutely dear.”  Hulda said with a warm smile.  “And I promise not to be yabbering about the noise you 2 made last night, even though half the town already heard it.”  She chuckled, “I’m sure the Jarl heard up in his castle!”  She laughed.  “Least the boy knows what he’s doing eh?”  She gave Saadia a wink. 

Saadia gave her a smile and went back to the room, her face burning, not sure what to do.  She was met with Farkas chuckling.

“You heard that?”  She asked and he nodded. 

“And if I gambled, I’d bet the Jarl did hear you last night.”  He added with a proud grin. 

 

***

 

It was a little later than she had intended it to be when she finally set out to Bleak Hills Barrow. 

Another round of sex had slowed her down and left Farkas asleep in the bed as she left.

She was both tired and exhilarated… and also worried about what the people of Whiterun might think of her.  But no one seemed to pay her any heed as they went about their business.  A couple of them bidding her a good morning. 

She left the town and headed down the narrow passageway out of Whiterun. 

She saw the Khajiit caravans again when she got past the fortifications.  She did have her old Imperial armour to sell, so she stopped in to see if they’d buy it.

The old cat sat snoozing in the sun on a rug in front of his tent. 

His fur was a beautiful, luscious grey, carefully groomed and arranged, his clothes were upper class.  She looked around and saw a Khajiit in armour; the protector of the caravan.  She watched Saadia closely as she approached the trader.

“Hello?”  She said, sorry to wake him.

“This one needs something?”  He asked.

“I have some things to sell.”  Saadia replied.  “I’m Saadia.”  She added.

“Ri’saad.”  He answered.  And then opened his hands for her to give him her goods. 

He gave a fair price for the damaged armour, not asking how it came to be so damaged, and even took the spider eggs off her hands.  She bought a warhammer from him; it did twice the damage that her axe did and he was offering it for a fair price; he even let her haggle him down a bit. 

“I’m curious about your homeland.”  She said after their business was finished. 

He sighed sadly, reminiscently.

“The Khajiit hail from a distant land called Elsweyr.”  He said, “There is Cyrodiil on the north, and to the south; the glistening blue waters of the sea.”  Saadia could tell this topic saddened the wizened old cat.  “Elsweyr is an arid land, with deserts and rocky canyons,” His eyes misted over, “Where the sun smiles warmly, all of the days.” 

“It sounds beautiful.”  Saadia answered.

“Ah it is.”  He agreed, “There are cities so ancient that the sands have swallowed them whole.  I will say no more.”  He lowered his head, “I miss my home greatly.”

“I’m sorry.”  Saadia said, “When will you go home?”  She asked him.

“Ri’saad will never return home.”  He answered.  “Ri’saad is no longer welcome there.” 

“I’m sorry.”  She repeated, understanding what it was to not have a home.  Although, she was hoping to make Whiterun her home. 

They said their farewells and she was welcomed back any time she had something to sell; they told her that they travelled amongst the cities and she said she hoped to see them again and that there were several Khajiit caravans. 

And then she finally headed off toward Bleak Hill Barrows, high in the mountains

It was an arduous trek up the mountains.

She got lost when a blizzard set in and found herself scrambling around the sheer rock faces, looking for a way to get closer to the ruins, barely visible in the white out.

Eventually, many hours later, she was standing before the ruins, her warhammer in her hands, ready to try and find a way in.

She had had to kill 2 bandits getting to this point, so she had no doubt there would be more inside.

She walked the hundreds of steps, looking for any sign of an entrance.

And at the very top, she found a large, intricately carved door.  The carving was the likeness of a Dragon and she touched the ebony door with her fingertips, feeling a strange affinity to the image. 

There were other strange motifs on the door that she didn’t understand.  But she didn’t stop to wonder about it, she simply pushed the door open.

There was a smell of smoke; someone was burning a fire in the room.

She crouched in the shadows, wanting to size up her opponents before taking them on; she didn’t know how many people were in here, nor how skilled they were. 

As she listened for sounds, she looked around at the sad, ancient tomb.  Abused, neglected, falling apart, with weeds and moss growing up the walls.  She could see that this once held the grandeur befitting someone of great importance. 

A door opened and she heard some bandits discussing the golden claw.  She smiled and thought of Camilla and Lucan; it looked like they’d be getting their ornament back. 

Once she’d killed all these fools of course.

The door closed and the conversation continued.  3 bandits on this side of the door. 

She crept forward, towards the bandits standing around the fire, arguing over the golden claw and its use.

Use? 

It was just an ornament wasn’t it?

Saadia caught sight of the fire sending flickering shadows over the large room and in the light she saw a dead bandit; killed by skeevers.  And now she knew that this bunch didn’t have a lot of skill.  She’d have no trouble here. 

She looked at the crumbling rock all around her.  This place wasn’t so scary after all.  It was sad that these people had once been so important and were now forgotten and feared for the fairy tale of ghosts and draugr.

She rushed forward to the fire, kicked hot ashes up into the face of one bandit while simultaneously swinging her warhammer at the head of one of the other bandits.

It made a satisfying cracking sound when it crushed his skull, the female bandit screaming from the burning ashes in her eyes echoing off the walls adding nicely to the music of the death Saadia was creating. 

The third bandit tried to run, only to find an arrow in his throat. 

Saadia still had the wooden long bow and slightly rusty iron arrows she’d found when escaping Helgen. 

“Lucky shot.”  She was impressed.  She’d always been weaker at archery than heavy weapons and weapon-less hand to hand combat. 

She searched their bodies for anything useful, and for the golden claw of course.  But she didn’t find it. 

She looked around and saw a locked chest in the corner. 

She thought she’d give it a go and managed to pick the lock fairly quickly.  She took their armour and weapons and shoved them in her bag before opening the door and heading down the tunnel, further into the crypt. 

There were a lot of cobwebs, so she kept her eyes opened for spiders.  But she saw none.  Just many burial urns; stone with ornately carved tops, intricate gold filigree worn with time would have looked spectacular when they had first been buried.  She stopped and put her hands on the burial urn.

Would it be wrong to take a look inside? 

Maybe there was something valuable in there, or something useful?

Or maybe it would just be the ashes of a long dead Nord.  She was sure it would be considered disrespectful by the Nords to search it. 

She slowly pulled off the heavy lid and looked inside; a ruby and some gold sitting in a pile of dust that had once been a Nord. 

She’d be searching all the burial urns.  It would take a while, but it would be worth it. 

The tunnels were long and dark, but fires, recently lit, made the way clear.  Which was useful because tree roots and vines were all over the floors and walls, crumbled walls, caved in tunnels, and broken floors were dangerous, snakes and all sorts of creatures scurried around.  And always dust was crumbling from the ceiling, giving the impression that the whole building might collapse at any moment and she might be buried under thousands of tonnes of stone, left to rot with the already ancient dead.

This place was thousands of years old.  And it looked it.  And it felt like it too.  There was a presence here…

Saadia was starting to find this place a lot more creepier the deeper she went.

And still there were more steps down.

Always down.

She must be well underground by now.

And still no sign of any more bandits, nor of Hadvar’s draugr. 

But there was plenty of freshly killed skeevers.

Someone had been through here, lighting fires and candles and killing off the vermin. 

But since none of the burial urns had been disturbed, she guessed they were probably Nord. 

The tunnels seemed to go on forever before finally opening out on to a chamber, a metal gate blocking the exit on the other side.  The room had decrepit stairs leading to an upstairs area with several huge stone faces peering back down at her from the walls, each with a plaque in his screaming mouth, each plaque with an animal on it.

Metal bowls had roaring fires in them, and ebony pillars with emblems on them stood around the room, a silver lever in the middle of the room.

And then she saw him, a bandit pushing one of the ebony pillars until a different animal motif could be seen.  Saadia watched, trying to figure out what he was doing.  He looked around the room at the other pillars, obviously not sure… he hesitated… nodded his head, took a deep breath and walked up to the silver lever. 

She watched him pull the silver lever and poison darts shot out of the walls at him, killing him instantly. 

Saadia stayed hidden in the doorway until all the poison darts stopped firing.  The man was dead, but still the shots fired.  There was no way anyone was surviving this booby trap. 

Saadia understood the game; get the ebony pillars in the wrong position, and you die.

Get it right, and the door opens…

She walked into the room, and the full size of the room became clear; it had a high vaulted ceiling with rotting wooden beams spanning its expanse. 

She saw that one of the stone faces, each bigger than her, had crumbled and fallen to the floor, the animal plaque now turned over, showing only its smooth back.  She looked up at the plaques in the mouths of the faces, then around the room at the pillar.

The two were connected.

The most obvious thing to do would be to line up the pillars to be the same as the faces. 

She checked what the bandit had done.

He had done the same, but had had to guess the pillar that was missing its corresponding plaque.  There were only 3 options per ebony pillar, so he had had a 1 in 3 chance of getting it right. 

The animal motifs were snake, eagle and whale.

And since he had guessed whale, she knew it wasn’t a whale. 

So she had a 1 in 2 chance of guessing it right.

Eagle or snake.

She looked down at the broken face, crumbled on the floor and tried to turn the huge, heavy plaque over to see what motif was on it. 

But it was too heavy.

She wondered if she could use something for leverage…

But it was huge, so whatever she used for leverage would likewise have to be sufficiently big enough to lift the plaque up high enough to tip it over.  There was nothing that big here that she could use.

She turned back to the pillar and turned it to be an eagle.

She turned back to the silver lever and put her hand on it…

But what if snake was the right answer?

She almost wished Farkas was here; between the two of them they’d have lifted that plaque up so she could sneak a peek underneath-

She suddenly realised she didn’t need to flip the whole thing over, she merely needed to lift it enough to see under there. 

She looked around for something she could use for leverage and a fulcrum.

She decided to use one of the smaller burial urns for a fulcrum, and an old Nord greatsword as leverage.

The greatsword was good because the narrow tip slid under the heavy plaque easier than something thicker. 

The greatsword might be bad, because it was very likely it would not be able to take the weight and would bend or snap.

But she only needed a minute to look under there at the animal motif on the other side. 

Slowly she levered the plaque up, grinning at her own ingenuity until she realised she had to stay over here, holding the sword hilt and might not be able to get close enough to see the motif in this low light.

She got on all floors, using her stomach to hold the sword hilt down and put her cheek to the dusty, grimy floor, looking at the shadows under the plaque, the sword beginning to creak with the effort for holding up the plaque. 

She couldn’t see it.

“Damn!”  She spat loudly.  “I need light!”  And suddenly a fireball emitted from her hand and hit the plaque.

She yelped in surprise and jumped back. 

The plaque was blown to thousands of shards.

She looked down at her hand. 

Fire had come out of her hand.

“Light?”  She asked gently, holding her hand out.

But nothing happened. 

She looked down at her hands again, then up at the broken plaque.

And then she laughed.

She’d seen the animal motif for a split second before the plaque had been destroyed and she’d backed away from the fire in fear. 

“Snake.”  She said turning to the ebony pillar and rotated it to the correct positon. 

She went to the silver lever in the middle of the room, took a deep breath…

And pulled it.

Nothing happened.

No poison darts.

But the door didn’t open either-

And then a loud groan from the stone ahead of her, and the door creaked open slowly, lifting up into a gap in the stone above it. 

She quickly searched the bandit, taking his armour to sell and headed on through the door. 

The room had a treasure chest, and a table with burial urns, potions and a book on it.  And to the side the floor opened up into a huge hole straight down, and decrepit set of wooden stairs winding their way down into the unknown darkness. 

She took everything worth having, opening the book to have a quick read, to see if it was worth taking.  On the first page, she learned a bit about pick pocketing from the story, about how to misdirect a person’s attention so you can get into their pocket undetected.

“Huh…”  She said and decided to keep the book and give it a read.  She always learned so much from books, and this one would be no different. 

She turned to the wooden stairs and looked down the hole.

“Ugh…”  She said, positive that the stairs would fall apart the minute she put a foot on them.

But she knew that the bandits must have come down these stairs, so they were obviously sturdier than they looked. 

She stepped onto the first step, ready to dive off it to safety should it collapse under her considerable full weight.

It groaned and creaked and complained… but it didn’t collapse. 

“By the Gods.”  She whispered, “I will kill that mage if I die in this tomb.”  She told herself as she took the next step and the stairs creaked ominously.  “I will chop him up into little pieces.”  She swore as the stairs groaned with another step down, “It’ll be simplicity.”  She said mimicking the tone he’d taken when giving her this task, “I’ll start with his annoying snooty nose.”  She promised herself as she took a few more terrifying steps, “And then I’ll cut off each finger individually, making sure he’s conscious for the whole damned thing.”  The stairs shook slightly and she gripped at the wall, “See how good of an assistant I can be then!”  She muttered angrily, trying to find a handhold on the stones, in case the stairs gave way.  

She had cut Farengar apart in gory detail by the time she got to the bottom of the stairs, and cut her fingers up badly gripping at the rock in terror every time the stairs did something unexpected. 

When she finally got back onto stone flooring she looked back up at the hole, the stairs spiralling up into the tiny light at the top.

“How am I ever getting out of here alive?”  She asked, “I just wanted to settle down somewhere peacefully.  Have a home, maybe grow a few vegetables, have a cow, some chickens… but no... no, here I am… in this Gods forsaken tomb.”

She took a deep breath and made her mind settle down into stillness. 

Focus.

She needed to focus.

She looked into the room that the stairs had come in on; it was some sort of preparation room for burial.

It was badly ruined and cobwebs lay heavy across the room.  Except for a path that had been cut out – where her bandits had come through. 

She picked up a few things she might sell and continued on her way, again, heading down, further underground, the weight of the tomb and earth above her head feeling oppressive when she let herself think about it. 

Deep breath.

Clear mind.

Endless tunnels, but now up ahead, she heard someone moving, calling back.

“Is that you Bjorn?”  Running onward, “Who is it?”

Saadia made an effort to go quieter now; she didn’t want this man to figure out where she was and ambush her.  It only took one well aimed arrow or weapon-strike to kill even the best warriors.  And she did not count herself amongst the best warriors she knew.  So she knew she had to tread carefully in these unknown circumstances. 

She snuck forward as quietly as she could, playing cat and mouse with the man who kept calling out to his friends.  Friends she had probably killed. 

The cobwebs grew thicker, and the man ahead started to say he was sorry for running ahead.

“I need help!”  he called. 

She broke through some newly spun web; there were no insects or dust caught in it, and into a room white with spider webbing.  Against the wall a man was caught in the webbing, screaming for help. 

Saadia saw egg pods all around her and she knew she was looking at a giant frostbite spider lair.

But where was the spider?

She crept forward towards the man, thinking to free him and get some help in the coming battle.

But as she got closer he started to struggle wildly. 

“NO!”  He screamed, “NO!” 

Saadia spun on the spot, understanding what had happened; she’d walked into the spider’s trap.

But the web under her feet was sticky, and it was hard to move her feet off the floor, she looked down at her feet and then back up at the dark spot on the ceiling, growing larger as the giant frostbite spider, easily 5 times the size of any frostbite spider she’d ever seen before, descended from the roof. 

It plopped on the floor, and Saadia could see that one of its legs had already been recently broken, green blood oozed from the wound.

She tried to pick up her feet, but the webbing held to her like an oozing sticky glue. 

Saadia raised her warhammer and watched as the spider moved in on her. 

She swung at the spider’s legs as it got closer; but the spider towered over her.

When it spat venom at her, she ducked and it hit the webbing right beside the man stuck there, he screamed and started pleading with the Gods to spare his life. 

The spider reared up and Saadia managed to land a shuddering blow on its second leg on the left, sending the spider scuttling backwards.

Saadia pulled her foot up violently, and finally managed to free one of her feet from the sticky mess of web.

But the spider was coming for her again. 

Saadia ducked again as the spider aimed its fangs at her face.  Each fang was as long as her forearm - it would have obliterated her head if it had bitten her face. 

She wanted to roll away from the monster, but she knew that would only get her further entangled in the web.  She had to get away from this stickier part of the web.

She looked around and saw a grated section of floor near the wall.  No doubt the spiders feet would get caught in those grates, so it had stayed away from it, only a thin layer of webbing was over it.  Saadia accepted that she was going to lose her boots and dived away from the attacking spider, leaving her boots behind. 

She could finally move, and now she was standing to the side of the spider.

She raised her warhammer above her head and brought it crashing down on the abdomen of the spider.

She heard it squeal as the hammer broke through the hard exoskeleton, green blood and goo exploding out.

Saadia was covered in the spider’s entrails, but she simply pulled her warhammer back and slammed it into the spider again and again and again, until it was dead and the once white room was painted green. 

She turned to the man in the web.

“What is it you wanted?”  She asked him and he hesitated.

“Please help me down!”  He pleaded, “Don’t leave me here for Arkay’s sake!”

Saadia looked down at the grating she was standing on; it was a trap door that led to what appeared to be nothing but blackness, and it was creaking with the weight of the dead frostbite spider and herself.  She stepped off it just as it gave way, sending the carcass tumbling down into the abyss.

She went over to her boots; covered in green slime, pulled them from the webbing, and put them back on, spider blood squelching between her toes.  They were going to be horrible to clean out, but it was better to have them then not have them in a place like this.  But even with boots, she’d have to be careful where she trod.

She took some spider eggs from the sacks around her, all the while the man watched her, clearly terrified she’d leave him there.

“Alright then.”  She said almost casually, when she finally approached him.  “Where’s the golden claw?”

He suddenly realised why she was there, why she’d kept him waiting, and that he only had one hope to get out of this alive.

“Yes, yes!  The claw!”  He said hurriedly, “I know how it works!”  He declared, “The claw, the markings, the door in the Hall of Stories.  I know how they all fit together!”  Saadia watched him silently as he yammered, “Help me down, and I'll show you.”  He was in a rush to promise her whatever she wanted it seemed, “You won't believe the power us Nords have hidden there!” 

Saadia didn’t trust him, but she had no choice but to cut him down – the way out of this room was past him.  And besides, it sounded like he had the golden claw, and she wanted to give that back to Camilla. 

“Alright, I’ll cut you down.”  Saadia answered.

“Sweet breath of Arkay, thank you!”  He answered gratefully.  But she could see the cogs spinning around in his brain.

As soon as his feet hit the floor he laughed maniacally and started to run off.  “You fool!”  He called back to her as he ran away, “Why should I share the treasure with anyone?”

Saadia calmly took her bow and arrow and took aim at him, hitting him in the arse.

“Not my best shot.”  She grimaced.

He lay screaming and writhing on the floor, his hand on his arse when Saadia started to search him.

She found the claw, and his journal.

She stepped on his throat to silence him while she read through the pages of his journal.

Apparently there was some kind of ancient Nord power down here, and a test to stop anyone from getting it.  But when you had the claw – you had the solution in the palm of your hands.

She looked at the claw and saw it; three animal motifs

Bear

Moth

Owl

She knew what kind of thing was coming and put the claw in her satchel along with the other things she took from the bandit thief. 

By the time she looked back down at him he had died; suffocated by her big boot across his throat.

“Oh well.”  She shrugged and headed on down the next corridor.

Always down. 

And now she came to the burial sites proper.

Skeletons and mummified bodies lined the walls, sleeping in narrow beds, stacked up on the walls like bunk-beds. 

The mummified corpses were much worse than the skeletons; their skin was still intact, but dry and shrivelled, yet still somehow stretched across their bones, hair and eyes still present; sometimes they looked like they were staring at her.

All around them were pieces of gold, placed there by ancient relatives, morning their loved ones. 

She picked up the gold, not wanting to look at the dead people, but desperately need the coin.

She heard a strange noise up ahead, like leathery whispers over ancient creaking tendons…

And suddenly she saw one of the mummified people running towards her; axe in hand.

“Draugr…”  She understood instantly. 

She ducked the blow and slammed her hammer into its back as its momentum took it past her.

It died easily enough, but the horror of seeing one of these things was enough to send someone mad.  The dead were walking through the ancient burial tombs… and she had to kill them again. 

She turned to find 2 more draugr with raised axes right behind her, their eyes glowing blue in the darkness.

On instinct, she raised her warhammer to block them, and they both clanged their axes down on the handle.  She spun the axe, catching the blade of one of the axes and sending it flying away.

A sweeping blow with the warhammer killed the first draugr it hit and seriously injured the second one in its path.  She finished it off with a kick to the head, just as another ran up to her, axe held high.

She swung her hammer at its knees, taking it down, and then smashed its head in while it was bent doubled.

She heard guttural calls and a language she didn’t understand, but was somehow familiar, being spoken in dry raspy, but potent voices.

There were more of them down here.

How many more?

Alone they were not difficult to deal with, but many of them would easily finish off even the best warrior.

She continued forward, killing two more draugr.

And then she stepped forward towards another tunnel and heard a click.

She looked down and saw she’d stepped on a trapped tile.

Without thinking she dived to the side just as a huge steel spiked door came swinging around violently.  Had she still been standing there; she would have been impaled on the spikes. 

“Watch my step.”  She noted softly and got to her feet. 

She saw draugr resting in their beds as she crept through the next room.  She took one of their axes and decided to cut their heads off – one by one – before they had chance to rise.

She also stripped them of their weapons and armour.  She was going to make some damn money off this little horrifying fiasco. 

And onward she went, killing draugr, heading always downwards, a distant ‘swishing’ sound getting progressively louder.

When she rounded the corner to see a corridor with giant axes swinging back and forth within its length, she simply stopped and stared at them.

“This is a joke.”  She said shaking her head, “Who in Oblivion creates burial tombs like this?”  She muttered, “Bloody Nords.” 

She put her warhammer and the draugr axe she’d been using, away and tried to count the seconds between swings so that she could time herself just right. 

She ran as fast as she could, missing all the blades and getting to the other side in one piece, only to find a draugr there, his piercing blue eyes boring into her.

A sadistic grin lit his face as he simply pushed her back, into the swinging axes.

The axe closest to her hit her head, luckily protected with her Imperial helmet and sent her reeling to the ground, the second axe catching her arm on the way down, cutting her badly; slicing through the flesh to the bone.

She gasped in pain, and then gritted her teeth against it, forcing herself into silence.

Her head was spinning from the concussion, and she nearly lost consciousness.  But she gripped the ancient Nord axe she’d taken from a draugr in her unharmed hand and with all her strength she swiped at the draugr’s ankles, cutting its feet off and watching with real satisfaction as it fell to the ground. 

She smashed its face in with the axe. 

And then she lay with her face just inches away from a swinging axe and took a healing potion to help dull the pain and speed the healing process.  And she waited.  Waited for the old woman’s healing magic to work; she needed it right now.  She just hoped that nothing would find her lying on the floor, practically helpless right now…

A few minutes later she felt the itch in her arm and felt the feeling and strength slowly return to her fingers, her head clearing slightly.

Until her arm healed completely, she’d be restricted to using one of the ancient Nord axes she’d found; a weapon that did less than half the damage her Warhammer did.  But the warhammer was double handed, and one of her arms wasn’t working and she wasn’t really strong enough to hold it in one hand. 

She got up, gritting her teeth with a vitriolic determination, and started to walk on down the next crumbling, ancient corridor.

“Corridors can all rot in Oblivion.”  She grumbled to herself as she shambled down still more stairs.  Her mind again asking how she’d ever get out of here alive. 

Killing draugr with one ancient, blunted axe, was not as effective as killing them with her warhammer, but she got into the rhythm of planting the axe blade in their guts, kicking them off the blade and then beheading them while they were bent over; or more often than not partially beheading them since the blade was so dull.  And far too many draugr were managing to hit her; even though her armour deflected the blades, the force of the blows was still bruising and winding. 

She also tried to get them before they awoke, but she couldn’t sneak along as silently as before because of her injuries.  Injuries that were getting added to with every draugr she met.

But she was itchy all over; the healing was happening; she’d be ok… as long as the injuries didn’t outweigh the magical ability she had to heal herself.

She turned the corner to see a room filled with draugr, illuminated by a clay lantern-pot hanging from the ceiling.  She couldn’t take them.  Not in her current state.

She slunk back into the shadows and watched, trying to figure out a way past them.

The small flames from the clay lantern-pot sent their shadows dancing jaggedly against the walls, shimmering off the oil slicked floors like some sort of nightmare.

And quite suddenly Saadia had the thought that maybe the pot-lantern could be made to crash in to the oil-slicked floor. 

The flames would deal with most, if not all of the draugr in the room. 

She pulled out her bow and slowly took aim at the distant target.

“Oh I need to improve my archery skills.”  She mumbled to herself as she took a deep breath to steady her hands.  One wrong attempt and the arrow landing in the room full of draugr would alert them to her presence.  And they’d come looking for her.

She only had one shot.

She loosed her bow and the arrow flew through the air, slowly starting to arc downwards.

“Oh…. No….”  She gritted her teeth, hoping the downward arc wouldn’t be too much – that it would still stay high enough to hit its mark…

THUNK!

The arrow hit the clay pot and all the draugr looked up at the noise.

There was a moment of complete stillness while they tried to figure out what had just happened before they all turned towards her.

And then the pot-lantern came crashing down, it’s smouldering flames igniting the oil slick violently.

WOOMPH!

The flames exploded out into the room Saadia was hiding in and she dove behind the corner.

It took several minutes for the flames to consume the oil, and she heard the draugr crying out in pain as the flames consumed them.

When Saadia finally entered the room, the ancient Nord axe held high in her good hand, they were all dead.  Again.

She searched the room and continued on without giving herself too much praise for her smart thinking.  She still had a long way to go.

After more winding corridors, some carved out of the mountain rock itself, she came to a large cavernous opening, a waterfall sending up spray across the ebony coffins and stone walls.  The room was infested with draugr, but there was no oil slick here to help her. 

She saw that the room seemed to have no way out other than following the underground river rapids further downward.

So she snuck past the draugr and made her way to the river, following it on foot, staying close to the edge, hoping that the water would muffle the sounds of her footfalls and she’d escape the room without a battle. 

She was pushing herself too hard; she had to give herself a moment to heal… but she also knew that stopping in this place for too long would mean death – she had to press on. 

Normally a room full of such easy enemies would be fun for a warrior like Saadia.  But not now.  Now she had a task to do, and her survival to think of. 

So she crept away.

The river led out to another large cavern, this one more cave like and less tomb like than the last, but it was only populated by strange growing mushrooms on the walls. 

Saadia pulled one down and saw that it kept glowing… that would be worth something to someone.  She harvested some more mushrooms, thinking of the gold she might get for them, before she continued following the river until it plummeted down into a ravine; draugr patrolling its banks far beneath where she looked over the edge. 

She saw a narrow, claustrophobic tunnel off to one side and sighed to herself before squeezing through the tunnel entrance, not even knowing if this would lead anywhere.

It was hard work, scraping through a tunnel that skeevers might use, in solid rock, her armour scratching against the hard, cold stone.

But eventually the tunnel opened up into a passageway, leading down towards the ravine. 

She snuck up on the draugr patrolling a stone bridge over the ravine and killed them as stealthily as she could; she didn’t need to draw attention to herself; there were still draugr lower down, on the banks of the river.  She crossed the bridge, the spray from the icy waterfall was nice on her bruised face, but her mind was focussed on the tunnel ahead, carved into the mountain, still high above the draugr below.

She hoped she was going the right way; there was a path leading down as well.

But she didn’t hesitate as she continued from the bridge down the tunnel; she could almost feel a pull of some sort, a magnetism, drawing her into the heart of the mountain. 

She couldn’t explain it, but she knew she was getting close to something.

Some great power that had laid in waiting for thousands of years…

And she was so close now.

The rock cave led to another Nordic ruin, more draugr… but she found she could carry her warhammer again now, so she made short work of them, her mind focussed, her attention drawn to the wooden door on the other side of the room. 

Something was calling to her.

She took the steel helm off the head of the draugr she just killed and discarded her old iron and leather Imperial helmet and continued on to open the door.

There was a sanctum beyond the door.  A huge shallow, iron pot ablaze with ceremonial fire, solid stone walls, floors and ceilings that had faired the centuries better than the tombs she’d come through to get here.

There were swirling carvings on the buttresses, and a heavy presence in the air.  As if there was a consciousness guiding her forward. 

Saadia could already hear the swish of the axes up ahead before she started down the corridor behind the ceremonial fire. 

She knew that somewhere in this corridor swinging axes were going to be an issue again.  But she felt calm and steady.  Not only did she know she was on the right path, but she knew there was something ahead that would help her with what was to come… it some way, it felt like it was meant for her. 

She knew this was absurd, but she felt it in her gut.

She didn’t know what the future held for her, nor did she know what was guiding her right now…

But she knew she had to continue.  That this was the right thing.

So when she came across the axes, swinging across the corridor, she closed her eyes, listening to their sounds, took a deep breath and ran through them, again unharmed - as she knew she would be. 

She was here for a reason.

Her mind hadn’t been this still and focussed since she had fled her father’s home.

She killed the draugr in this next room with ease; each with one blow, her eyes staying focussed on the way forward.  Each step closer making the pull to move forward even stronger.  Until finally she opened a huge set of iron doors that revealed a long chamber with intricate stories carved into the walls. 

She looked at them with wonder and awe, trying to understand the depictions.

Here was what looked like a Goddess, men worshipping her.  And was that a Dragon’s head overlooking the whole scene?

The ancient pictures were worn and hard to decipher.

Here was a man, with a full beard, holding two terrifying staves of power, again he was worshipped by all… and it seemed like a Dragon was standing above him.  But it might have been some other sort of animal…

She looked at all the pictures and saw different people in the centre, being worshipped by others.

Where these the ancient Nord Gods?

Ahead she saw a huge stone door, with three rings around a central lock.

It looked like an archery target practice except the rings all bore images of various animals.

She knew what to do.

Saadia took the golden claw out and looked at the symbols again.

Bear, moth, owl.

She pressed her hand against the outer ring and pushed it sideways; it was hard work, but the stone screeched and grinded its way around until she finally had the image of a bear at the top centre.

She did the same for the middle circle, lining up a moth with the bear. 

And finally the owl for the inner circle, which was by far the easiest circle to move.  Probably because it was the smallest.

She looked at the lock in the centre and saw that the golden claw’s actual claws would fit into the holes; there was even a slight imprint where the dragon claw’s ‘palm’ would go.

Saadia recalled the bandit being killed by the wrong combination on the ebony pillars, hours ago and looked at the golden claw again.

She was sure this was right. 

She put the claw in place in the central lock, and paused only momentarily before twisting it.

A loud clicking sound echoed through the chamber and Saadia grabbed the golden claw and rolled away; afraid of poison darts…

But the rings simply spun around to have three owls showing before slowly descending into the floor, leaving the way open for her to continue.

“Finally some stairs going up.”  Saadia noted as she started to climb them, a huge sense of being pulled forward growing with every step.  She had to force herself to not run forward recklessly.

The stairs opened up to a huge cavernous chamber, bats flying about its roof, cobwebs hanging down from every corner.

Far away, at the back wall of the chamber, Saadia could just make out thousands of stone stairs heading up, and she hoped, out of the heart of the mountain. 

But closer to her was a rounded wall with 2 ebony sarcophagi in front of it. 

This was no doubt the central burial chamber, and one of those sarcophagi would probably have the Dragonstone in it and it would probably be guarded by numerous or more powerful draugr…

But Saadia couldn’t take her eyes off the curved wall.

It looked like there was a huge, stylised dragon’s head carved into the stone, intricate patterns surrounding the huge figure, and beneath it… even stranger markings…

She stood in the entrance to the cavern and stared across its vast width at this huge curved wall, her eyes trained on the strange etchings scratched across the lower surface – some sort of language she’d never seen before… what was it saying?

And why did she feel so pulled to it?

She knew without a doubt that this is what had been pulling her forward.

Her eyes focused on the alien language, barely visible from where she was, so strange and yet somehow familiar.  Had she seen it somewhere before?  Perhaps in her father’s books…

But somehow she knew she’d never seen this language before… she felt like she’d remember it if she had.

It was powerful, and within each word of this language there was magic and power unimaginable. 

And it was calling to her.

Saadia shook her head and worked hard to silence her mind; she had a task to do, and she knew the draugr weren’t going to make it easy.

Once they were dealt with, and she had the Dragonstone in her hands, she’d take a moment to look at that wall. 

With her focus back intact, despite the pull of the wall, Saadia stepped out into the room. 

The effect was almost instantaneous… she felt as if there was a strange chanting in the depths of her mind, urging her forward, pulling her almost forcefully towards the wall. 

Her heartbeat started to thump in her ears as she fought against the pull, focussed on the sarcophagi, where the Dragonstone and the draugr would be waiting.  She had to deal with those first…

She forced herself to walk, not run, each step making the chanting louder.

She forced herself to keep her eyes on the sarcophagi, it was clear now that they were surrounded by burial urns and treasure chests; that was good. 

She climbed the stairs up towards the sarcophagi, the curved wall looming over them, the chanting a loud roar in her mind.

But she could not stop herself, she walked straight past the sarcophagi and all its loot, and went to the wall.  As she neared it the world seemed to dim… tendrils made of pure light seemed to reach out from the stone to her, and one of the words began to glow… brighter and brighter… the rest of the world fading away to nothing, the chanting so loud now she could hear nothing else. 

And a sudden rush of power and knowledge swept through her body, her mind seared with this understanding, a bliss better than orgasm rocked her innards and she stood, rooted to the spot, her body shaking with the magic coursing through her veins. 

And suddenly it all stopped.

She understood the word – it meant ‘force.’

The wall had done what it wanted to do, and now it was silent, the pull was gone, and Saadia was allowed to breathe, to see and to have her own mind back… a mind now impregnated with that knowledge. 

But the knowledge felt inert… like it was waiting for something to give it life.

Saadia didn’t understand and she wasn’t sure if she liked it… but she knew that somehow this was meant to happen.  This had been the future the old woman had spoken of.

She stared at the now completely inert wall, not understanding any of the other words.

And suddenly there was a loud boom from behind her as the lid to one of the sarcophagi flew off.

Saadia spun to see the angriest looking draugr she’d ever seen climbing out of his grave, his glowing blue eyes fixed on her.

He opened his mouth and Shouted and the air screamed from his lungs, forcing her backwards.

Saadia was reminded of the Dragon Shout at Helgen…

And she knew this word.  The draugr was Shouting ‘force’ at her – and it was physically pushing her backwards.  The air itself was forced back by the power of his voice.

But she leaned forward into the gale force wind and raised her warhammer; she was going to kill this draugr and take the Dragonstone. 

When he stopped Shouting, Saadia ran forward and swung her warhammer at his head. 

He took the blow and in the same movement swung his sword at her head.

Saadia ducked, but when he Shouted again she was taken unaware and flung backwards, her face hitting the corner of the sarcophagus, stunning her momentarily.  And he was upon her, hacking at her with his sword.  Most of his blows hit her armour, but one hit her only just healed arm, the blunt sword doing more blunt-force trauma than slicing. But still her blood flowed.

But nothing was going to stop Saadia now.  She got on her feet, knowing she only had a limited time before the damn thing would Shout at her again.  She swung her hammer at his legs, making him lose his feet and fall to his arse.  She hit him in the face with her hammer three times before he rolled away and got to his feet, again Shouting. 

But it was Saadia’s time to roll away, missing the worst of the force of his voice, before jumping to her feet and rushing at the draugr, tackling him to the ground and punching him repeatedly in the face until he lay still.  She stood up, grabbed her Warhammer and brought it crashing down into his face, making sure he was dead.

She turned to look warily at the other sarcophagus, but it was still firmly sealed. 

Saadia walked over to it and brought her hammer crashing down on its lid.

She moved aside the shattered shards to reveal the Dragonstone entombed within. 

She looked at it closely; it had the same Dragon head image on it as the wall behind her, and above that a map of Skyrim – the burial sites marked.  She turned it over and ran her fingers along the markings on the back.  More of this strange language. 

She wanted answers, but she wasn’t sure anyone would have them but the old lady, and Saadia had a suspicion she wouldn’t be seeing that old woman again.  At least not unless she wanted to be seen. 

“By the Gods.”  She shook her head before she put the Dragonstone in her satchel and turned to the treasure chests.  “Time to loot.”  She found herself grinning as she opened up the first chest. 

 

***

 

It was dark when she finally found the exit from the caves behind the wall and smelled the air in the outside world again.  She could smell the coming dawn on the air; it was only an hour or so away.  Birds were already beginning to stir and frogs were beginning to croak as they always did at dawn and dusk. 

Saadia looked out across the valley below her and took another deep breath.

She felt stronger for surviving Bleak Falls Barrow; tougher, more capable.

And she had this strange, ancient power embedded in her flesh and soul now.  She didn’t know how to use it, but it was there.

She also felt exhausted.  She hadn’t slept more than a few hours over the past few days, and it would be early morning by the time she got back to Whiterun.  Hopefully she’d get to sleep all day and meet with Farkas in the evening.

She grinned at that thought and started to head off down the mountain, jumping down the rocks with sure-footedness, even though her injuries were painful.  She knew they’d be all gone before this evening’s revelries with Farkas.  The only reason they were taking so long to heal now is because there were so many, and she wasn’t giving herself any resting time to heal in – the old woman had said to give it time and rest. 

But she found she didn’t mind the pain so much.  She had survived her first trial.  And she’d enjoyed it. 

 

***

 

Vilkas stood at the doors of Jorrvaskr, awaiting his younger (by about 15 minutes, so he was told) brother so they could start today’s training with the junior members of the Companions. 

He saw Saadia, covered in grime and blood, obviously injured, walking through the market place with long purposeful strides, her head held high, hardly noticing the way the people stopped to stare at her.

He gave a soft scoff followed by a smile and a shake of the head.

“Working for the Jarl, eh?”  He said to himself as he watched her heading towards Dragonsreach. 

“Vil-”  He heard his brother say as he opened the door to come out.  But Farkas stopped and broke out into a grin when he saw Saadia.  “Just a minute.”  He said to his brother and headed down the stairs towards Saadia. 

Vilkas watched them greet each other; Farkas held Saadia’s face while he kissed her deeply, his pelvis tipping in towards her, her hand going to his waist, but she pulled up short, and he seemed to realise how injured she was. 

Vilkas saw the look of concern on his brother’s face saw Saadia brush it off, saw that she had said something suggestive to him because he responded with a smutty grin and a wink.  But the grin quickly dropped as he gently stroked some lose strands of hair from her face, checking the bruises there. 

Vilkas’s brows furrowed when he saw how bad the bruising was; she might have a fractured skull.  That would take some time to heal.

She brushed off Farkas’s concern again, obviously told him she had to get going to the castle, and he obviously made plans to see her in a few hours. 

Vilkas pursed his lips sourly as Farkas came bounding back up the stairs jauntily.

“Do you want the whelps to respect you or not?”  He asked and Farkas knew to not let the good mood follow him into training.

“I know.”  He answered. 

“You don’t usually visit the same stable twice.”  The words were out of Vilkas’s mouth before he’d had chance to stop himself.  Farkas’s sex life was none of his business, and he knew and accepted that – he was fine with that!  He had no idea why he’d made the statement.  He regretted it instantly. 

Farkas gave him a look that said he didn’t like this conversation, but he was going along with it out of love for his brother.

“I have in the past a few times.”  Farkas answered, “For… special people.” 

“Special people.”  Vilkas said and shook his head, “You know nothing about this woman and you’re counting her amongst the special people in your life?”  Vilkas asked. 

“I know enough.”  Farkas answered. 

Vilkas rolled his eyes, more at himself than his brother.  His brother was usually very good with his dalliances, and they rarely caused any problems for him or the Companions, in his 35 years, he’d had perhaps half a dozen people he’d seen more than once and it had always ended well; Farkas was good at ending things too.  Everyone seemed to simply accept that he was not the sort of man who would be staying with one person for life.  Most people were happy to just get to experience a bedding with Farkas, even if it would only be once.  And of course, there were some that came looking for comfort from Vilkas after that. 

But none of that mattered; Vilkas had decided many summers ago to not query about Farkas’s sex life.

“I’m sorry.  It’s not my business.”  Vilkas answered and Farkas gave him an accepting smile.

“You’re worried I’ll get hurt.  My emotions?”  Farkas asked and Vilkas gave a short nod.  “I’ll be fine.”  He answered, “Shall we make some whelps cry?”

“Don’t hit them that hard.”  Vilkas sighed.  “You’re ten times stronger than anyone here!”  He reminded Farkas and they both broke out into laughter, their arms going over the other’s shoulders.  “But it does help them learn when to walk away.”  Vilkas admitted.  “Shall we drink mead until we pass out tonight brother?”  Vilkas asked.

“Not tonight.  I’m seeing Saadia again.”  Farkas answered, “But maybe tomorrow?” 

“Of course.”  Vilkas said, his rising spirits now dropping again. 

 

***

 

“You see?”  Farengar asked pointing at his books and then to a map, “The terminology is clearly first era,”  Saadia stood in the doorway, dripping blood and muck all over the floor, unseen by Farengar and his associate, “I’m convinced this is a copy of a much older text.  Perhaps dating to just after the Dragon War.”  He sounded excited, “If so, I could use this to cross-reference the names with later texts.”

“Good.”  The woman he was talking too said, “I’m glad you’re making progress, my employers are anxious to have some tangible answers.”  She was dressed in armour, a hood obscuring her features. 

“Oh have no fear.”  Farengar returned, “The Jarl himself has finally taken an interest, so I’m able to devote most of my time to this research.”

“Yes but time is running on Farengar.”  She reminded him, “Don’t forget that this isn’t some theoretical question.  Dragons have come back.”

“Yes I know, don’t worry.”  He answered shortly, “Although the chance to see a living Dragon up close would be tremendously valuable...”  He seemed to waft off into a fantasy world, the woman staring at him, and while Saadia could not see her face, she would have bet 10 gold pieces on the fact that she was giving him a look of disbelief.  Farengar seemed to remember himself and sighed, “Now, let me show you something else I found.”  He started to rummage through his drawers, “Very intriguing... I think your employers may be interested as well.”

“You have a visitor.”  She said when she looked up and saw Saadia at the door. 

“Hmm?”  Farengar asked and looked up at the door.  “Ah yes, the Jarl’s protégé.”  He said condescendingly, but then he realised; “Back from Bleak Falls Barrow… You didn’t die it seems.”  And his tone became more respectful. 

Saadia simply held up the Dragonstone and Farengar’s eyes grew wide.

“The Dragonstone of Bleak Falls Barrow!”  He whispered excitedly.  Saadia handed it to him and he let his fingers run along the lines of the map, “You are a cut above the usual brutes the Jarl sends my way.”  He said happily as the woman came over to look at the Dragonstone, “My... associate here will be pleased to see your handiwork.”  He said as a way of introduction, “She discovered its location, by means she has so far declined to share with me.”  He turned back to her and she took the stone from him, “So your information was correct after all.”

The woman looked from the stone to Saadia, her features still shrouded with her hood.

“You went into Bleak Falls Barrow and got this?”  She asked.

“Yes.”  Saadia answered, too exhausted to worry about pleasantries.

“Nice work.”  She told Saadia and turned back to Farengar.  “Just send me a copy when you’ve deciphered it.”  She nodded her farewells to both of them and left Farengar staring at the Dragonstone, Saadia staring at him.

“Do I get anything for bringing you that?”

“Oh I’m sure the Jarl or his steward Proventus will pay you appropriately.”  Farengar brushed off her question.

“Also…”  Saadia didn’t know how to explain it, “I had a fireball come out of my hand…”  She said slowly, “I have no idea what-”

“You know some magic?”  Farengar answered hopefully, but Saadia shook her head.

“None.”  Saadia answered.

“Did you read a spell tome?”  He asked, less impressed. 

“I don’t know…”  Saadia answered.  “I don’t think so…”

“Did you read a book that gave you a feeling of power but simply blinked into non-existence the moment you’d read it?”  He asked and realisation came to Saadia.

“Yes!”  She answered, “I wondered what that was.”

“Seems the book taught you a fire skill.”  Farengar answered, “You’ll have to work hard to master it.”  He added, “There are thousands of spell tomes still left in Tamriel.  We have tried to get rid of all of them; they were made to give magic to people with no effort.”  Farengar said haughtily, “Magic takes years to learn and hone – it’s a craft of wisdom, and patience.”  He sighed, “These spell books give anybody the chance to wield power that is far beyond them, without the tempering of having to learn it the hard way.  It’s very dangerous.  You have common criminals able to wield high level magic without ever having learned how to properly control it thanks to these spell tomes.”

“That makes a lot of sense now.”  Saadia said.  “Well I might need some help learning to control the magic then.”  Saadia added. 

“I’m glad you’re doing the right thing; seeking a proper education.”  He answered, “But I haven’t the time for it.  you might consider applying at the Mage’s College in Winterhold.  If you have the aptitude they might just let you in.”  He gave her a reassuring smile. 

She decided not to tell him about the word on the wall that had reached out to her, calling to her, that she had somehow understood.

She did not think he would think her sane if she explained that. 

“Farengar!”  It was Irileth; she had come running into his work room.  Saadia and Farengar turned to look at her.  “You need to come at once!”  She commanded urgently, “A Dragon’s been sighted nearby!”  She turned to Saadia, “You should come too.”  She ordered. 

Saadia looked at the door to the keep – it led out to Whiterun, to Farkas, a bath, food and water, to a nice warm bed and sleep.  Out that door was visiting Hadvar to see if he was still alive.

But Irileth motioned for them to follow her.  And Saadia did. 

“A Dragon!”  Farengar exclaimed as he started to follow her, “How exciting!  Where was it seen?  What was it doing?” 

Saadia tried not to resent him for being able to find excitement in the prospect of seeing a Dragon.  But having seen one up close, and seen the devastation it had wrought upon the township of Helgen, having heard the screams and smelled the burning flesh… Saadia felt only a sense of dread that one was heading to Whiterun.

“Not Whiterun.”  She whispered to herself.  “Not Riverwood.”

“I’d take this a bit more seriously if I were you!”  Irileth snapped at him.  “If a Dragon where to attack Whiterun, I don’t know if we can stop it.”

Saadia followed them up the stairs that had been discreetly hidden behind the platform that the Jarl’s throne sat upon. 

She knew she was heading up to where the Jarl and his family lived. 

She noticed a guard, sweating and panting, following them up the stairs.

The stairs opened up into a huge library with doors leading off to many other rooms.  There must have been thousands of books in here.  It reminded Saadia of her father’s library; beautiful and forbidden.  For this was not her home, and to take a book to read would be punishable by death here, just as it was in her father’s home.  One does not steal from a Jarl in Skyrim… unless they’re very good at not getting caught. 

The Jarl was looking over a map of Skyrim, Stormcloak and Imperial positions marked in blue and red flags, he looked up as they approached.

“So,” Jarl Balgruuf said as he turned to them, looking at the exhausted guard, “Irileth tells me you’ve come from the Western Watchtower.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

“Tell him what you told me about the Dragon.”  Irileth commanded.

“We saw it coming from the south.”  The guard said, the fear of seeing a Dragon still weighing on him, “It was fast.  Faster than anything I’ve ever seen.” 

“What did it do?”  The Jarl sounded alarmed, “Is it attacking the watchtower?”

“No, my Lord.”  The man was still gasping for air, “It was just circling overhead when I left.  I’ve never run so fast in my life.”  He tried to take a deep breath, “I thought it would come after me for sure.” 

“Good work, son.”  The Jarl clapped him on the shoulder gently, “We’ll take it from here.  You head down to the barracks for some food and rest – you’ve earned it.”  He turned his attention to Irileth and Saadia.  “Irileth, gather some guardsmen and get down there.”

“Immediately, my Lord.”  Irileth answered.  “I’ve already ordered my men to muster by the front gate.”

The Jarl gave her a fond smile; the kind that comes from years of knowing you can rely on this person, and once again they have proven that trust right. 

“Good.”  He said, a hand going to her arm, “Don’t fail me, or my people, Irileth.”  He told her and she took the weight of that order with her head held high, with just a slight nod of acknowledgement.  He turned to Saadia, “I need your help again, my friend.”  He told her and Saadia nodded in almost the same way Irileth had.  Saadia understood that Elves and Humans were almost always at war, and very rarely friendly, but here was a deep love and friendship between an Elf and a Human; Irileth the Dark Elf and Jarl Balgruuf the Nord.  And somehow, Saadia was beginning to understand Irileth’s loyalty to this man.  And Hadvar’s and Alvor’s…

She knew that he needed this Dragon to be slain, to protect Whiterun, and all the people of his Hold.  He didn’t need to say the words.

And Saadia would see it done – by her own hand. 

“Yes, my Jarl.”  She answered. 

“I want you to go with Irileth and help her fight this Dragon.”  He ordered.  “You survived Helgen, so you have more experience with dragons than anyone else here.” 

She really didn’t want to see a Dragon up close again.  She didn’t want the horror of Dragon fire reigning down on her again… she didn’t want any of this. 

“Yes, my Jarl.”  Saadia repeated firmly.

“And I have not forgotten the service you have already rendered by retrieving the Dragonstone for Farengar.  As a token of my esteem, I have instructed Proventus to allow you to buy property in my fair city.”  He said; the tone of his voice was enough to convince her of what an honour this was, but Irileth and Farengar’s expression sealed the deal.  It was obvious that he did not allow outsiders to buy property in Whiterun very often at all.  “And please, accept this gift from my personal armoury.”  He motioned for a servant to come forward and she was handed a beautiful sword.  And even though it was a one handed weapon, Saadia could see the excellent craftsmanship of the sword.

“Thank you, my Jarl.”  Saadia said softly.  He nodded, accepting that she was suitably grateful. 

“I should come along.”  Farengar said excitedly as Irileth turned to leave, “There might be need for my talents.”

“No I cannot risk both of you; I need you here working on ways to defend the city against these Dragons.”  The Jarl’s tone was final, but his eyes went to Irileth.  “And Irileth,” He called after her and she turned back to him, “This is no hero’s quest – there’s no death or glory here.”  He told her, “You come back to me alive.”  Their eyes met, and Saadia saw the deep connection they shared.  “I need to know what we’re dealing with.”  He added.

“Yes, my Lord.”  It was the first time Saadia had heard Irileth’s voice soften.  “Don’t worry; I’m the very soul of caution.”  Her voice regained its commanding tone. 

Irileth turned away and Saadia saw an anguished look in the Jarl’s eyes; he didn’t like risking her life like this. 

“I’ve got her back, my Jarl.”  Saadia told him, and he nodded his gratitude.  She followed Irileth down the stairs, Farengar grumbling behind her about not being allowed to come. 

 

**

 

Everyone stopped to watch Irileth and the newcomer running through the streets of Whiterun, word streaming ahead of them that something was happening, a Dragon had been sighted, the newcomer was a Dragon slayer… or an offering to the Dragon so it would leave Whiterun alone…?

The Companions came out from Jorrvaskr when the heard the ruckus, Farkas with a concerned look on his face; something was happening and it involved Saadia.

“Jarl’s business.”  Skjor said dismissively and ordered the training to continue.  The Companions stayed out of politics. 

When they got to the front gate, there were several guards already waiting for them.

With so few warriors to join them, Saadia felt sure that they were all going to their deaths. 

“Here’s the situation.”  Irileth told her fighters, “A Dragon is attacking the Western Watchtower.”

Saadia saw the shock and fear on their faces.  One of them visibly blanched and another looked like he might faint. 

“A Dragon?”  Asked a panicked voice.

“You heard right.”  She returned sharply, “I said a Dragon.  Now I don’t care much where it came from or who sent it,” She continued, “What I do know is that it’s made the mistake of attacking Whiterun!”  Her voice was commanding, uplifting, powerful. 

“But housecarl, how can we fight a Dragon?”  One of the guards asked Irileth. 

Saadia remembered that ‘housecarl’ was the Nord term for a personal bodyguard for very important people, like Jarls or Thanes.  Jarls were the royalty, and Thanes were the nobles.  Irileth was Jarl Balgruuf’s personal bodyguard. 

She had no doubt risked her life for him on many occasions; it was a housecarl’s calling to protect their charge and their charge’s property with their life. 

“That’s a fair question.”  Irileth said, and Saadia hoped that she wouldn’t ask her to explain how to fight a Dragon… Saadia had no idea; she’d probably just tell them that as far as she knew, you didn’t.  You ran or you died.  “None of us have even seen a Dragon before, let alone faced one in battle.”  She was saying.  “But we are honour-bound to fight it, even if we fail.”  Saadia saw the look in the guards’ eyes; the fear of death mixed with their duty, their honour.  “This Dragon is threatening our homes!”  Irileth told them, “Our families!  Could you call yourselves Nords if you fled from this monster?”  Saadia saw Irileth’s words beginning to work on the guards; they were getting fired up and ready to fight.  “Are you going to let me face it alone?” 

“No housecarl!”

“But it’s more than just our honour at stake here.  Think of it!”  She said, “This is the first Dragon seen in Skyrim since the last age.”  She paused for effect, “The glory of killing it is ours – if you’re with me!”

They cheered, ready to go to a battle in which they would surely die. 

Even Saadia felt her heart rise with their voices. 

“Now what do you say?”  Irileth cried, “Shall we go kill us a Dragon?”

The guards cheered again and they all started running towards the front gate to the city; ready to run the whole distance to the watchtower. 

They sprinted across the open plains to the western watchtower, silent and determined; Irileth setting the pace.

It didn’t take long for the fires to become visible in the distance, the smell of death hanging thick over the land. 

They settled in behind a rocky outcrop to see if they could see the Dragon.  But there was no sight of it, but Irileth noted that it sure looked like a Dragon attack. 

The watchtower was ruined, crumbling and leaning to the side, with obvious scratch marks down its brick sides; whole bricks ripped out by the Dragon’s claws.  And of course, there was fire and dead bodies everywhere, many of them ripped to pieces.

“Alright, we have to figure out what happened – we must know what we’re dealing with here.”  Irileth told them, “And we have to know if this Dragon is still skulking about.  I know it looks bad, but we have to see if there are any survivors.” 

The guards nodded and they fanned out, heading towards the ruins, searching for any clues or survivors.

Saadia calmed her mind and nerves as they headed in for a closer look. 

She could only hope that the Dragon wouldn’t return as she looked down at burned corpse, lying in the foetal position.  It had already done its terrible work here, hopefully it would-

There was a loud roaring and they all looked up to the skies.

“HERE IT COMES!”  Irileth roared, “NOW MAKE EVERY ARROW COUNT!”

“Kynareth protect me.”  The guard beside her whispered as he grabbed an arrow from his quiver. 

The Dragon appeared from behind the tower, hovering above them, its huge wings flapping slowly.

And then it unleashed a torrent of fire, one guard diving out of the way, the other screaming in agony as he melted before them. 

Saadia took aim with her bow and arrow, trying to steady her shaking hands, she held her breath, and let her arrow lose.

It hit the beast, as did several other arrows, and a stream of lightening from Irileth’s palm. 

But the beast seemed unfazed.

Saadia noticed that this was not the same dragon that had attacked Helgen.  The beast had been huge and black… this one was smaller, with a silver tone to its hide, and less horny scales on its head. 

“Gods help us…”  Saadia whispered as she realised that there was more than one dragon on the loose in Skyrim. 

“KEEP FIRING!”  Irileth ordered, electricity rippling from her hands while the others let their arrows fly. 

The monster reigned down fire on Irileth, but she rolled behind some fallen brickwork from the tower and managed to miss the worst of the flames.

Saadia held her ground, even as the dragon came around and hovered above her, her bow and arrow trained on it, letting arrows fly as quickly as she could, one after the other. 

She saw the dragon take a deep breath, and knew it was about to Shout fire at her. 

She saw Irileth getting to her feet behind the hovering Dragon and preparing her lightening spell.  Saadia held her ground, held the Dragon’s attention… Waiting, even as the flames roared from its mouth.

Until the last second, when she rolled away, her armour now on fire as Irileth hit the beast with her lightening, forcing it to the ground.

It landed, shouting Dragon’s fire and killing another guard, burning Irileth… but Saadia ran towards it as the others scampered away, her armour on fire, her warhammer held high.

She leapt and hit the beast across the face, and it roared fired that she sidestepped; this close to the beast’s mouth, the fire was only a narrow jet and easier to duck.  But it was skin-blisteringly hot, so she thumped its jaw with the head of her hammer, pushing the fire further away from her, before swinging the warhammer down onto its head. 

The dragon lunged at her, snapping its jaws, but she leapt back and then forward again, swinging her warhammer to smash the dragon’s mouth again.

The guards watched the battle, one of them running forward with her sword held high, to try and help, Irileth grasping her burned arm and building her energy to blast it with electricity again… But Saadia dived to the side, slammed the dragon with her warhammer again, making the dragon lower its head…

“Dovahkiin?  No!”  She heard the Dragon cry weakly.  And then she jumped up onto the dragon’s head and slammed her hammer down into it skull; over and over again until the beast moved no more.

They stared in disbelief for a moment and then cheers erupted from them.

Saadia got down from the Dragon’s head and stood before it.

“So they can be killed.”  She said and the guards cheered louder. 

She smiled, exhausted, and then laughed with exhilaration…

“Good shooting!”  Irileth told her guards.

And then a strange feeling came over Saadia…

A pulling…

That magnetism again.

Her head feeling filled up with some sort of intense knowledge and power.

She gasped, fell to her knees, staring at the Dragon as a light rose from its whole being, the very scales and skin of the Dragon started to rise into the air, as if made of ash and caught on the wind… but they turned fiery orange as they rose

“Everyone get back!”  Irileth cried as the whole Dragon seemed to catch on fire.  But the flames sent long tendrils of pure light out towards Saadia, who could not move; she was held in place by this ancient power.

Irileth and the guards watched, in complete shock as the tendrils of fiery light left the Dragon and plunged into Saadia, until all of the light was absorbed by her, and the Dragon was left as just a skeleton. 

Saadia fell forward onto her hands and knees, the power swirling throughout her was immense, and she felt a sudden understanding of the word she had learned before.

Force…

She knew how to say it…

No.

Not how to say it.

To Shout it.

She stood up, staring at the skeleton in front of her, not seeing the dropped jaws on the guards behind her. 

The Dragon had called her Dovahkiin.  Just as the old woman had. 

“It’s just like the legends say…” one of the guards said in awe, “Dragonborn.” 

Irileth and the guards came running towards her to make sure she was ok. 

“I can’t believe it…”  Another guard said to Saadia, “You’re Dragonborn!”  She sounded excited. 

“Dragonborn?”  Saadia asked, “What do you mean?”

“In the very oldest tales, back when Dragons were still roaming Skyrim,” The guard explained, “Dragonborns would kill Dragons, and take their power.” 

“That’s what you did isn’t it?”  Another guard asked, “You took its power?” 

“I don’t know what happened to me.”  Saadia answered, feeling slightly numb, and completely off balance.

“There’s only one way to find out.”  The first guard said, “Try to Shout.  According to the legend, only the Dragonborn can Shout without training – like the Dragons do.”

She understood now.  The Dragons Shout, the power of The Voice that General Tullius had said Ulfric had used to kill the high Jarl… the Word on the Wall in Bleak Falls Barrow.

“Dragonborn?  What are you talking about!”  One of the other guards said sceptically.

“That’s right, like old Tiber Septim.”  Another guard answered.  “My old grandfather said-”

“I never heard of Tiber Septim killing any Dragons.”  He scoffed in reply. 

“There weren’t any Dragons then idiot!  They’re just coming back now for the first time in ages.” 

“Alright…”  Saadia said, having no idea how to do such a thing as Shout.  She turned away from them, biting her bottom lip in thought… and then she closed her eyes, took a deep breath and simply said the Word ‘force’ in the strange language she had seen on the Wall…

“FUS!”  Her voice roared out of her – a powerful Shout that made the trees bend sideways and sent the lose rocks tumbling back.

“The Thu’um!”  The guard cried, her voice excited, “She summoned the Thu’um!”

“You must be one of the Dragonborns that can kill Dragons and steal their power!”  The sceptical guard said in a rushed voice, his eyes wide in shock. 

“What do you say Irileth, you’re being awfully quiet?”  The first guard asked, “What do you say about this Dragonborn business?” 

“Some of you would be better off keeping quiet than flapping your gums on matters you don’t know anything about.”  Irileth responded, her eyes watching Saadia closely.  “Here’s a dead Dragon.”  She pointed to the corpse, “And that is something I definitely understand.”  She held each one of their gazes for a moment, “Now we know we can kill them.”  The guards agreed with that.  “But I don’t need some mythical Dragonborn.”  Her eyes returned to Saadia, “Someone who can put a Dragon down is more than enough for me.”  She obviously meant Saadia here, and she held a hand out to Saadia and Saadia took it, shaking hands vigorously, both showing their physical strength in the exchange. 

“You wouldn’t understand housecarl.  You ain’t a Nord.” 

Saadia turned to look at the man who had said that. 

They had fought by this woman’s side, depended on each other with their very lives… and still they excluded her like this. 

Saadia was about to speak up when Irileth scoffed dismissively.

“I’ve been all over Tamriel; I’ve seen so many things just as outlandish as this.  And I’d advise you to trust in the strength of your sword arm over tales and legends.” 

“But that was Shouting, what she just did.”

“She really is Dragonborn…”

“Well she took care of that Dragon.  Dragonborn or not – that’s good enough for me.”

“We taught that Dragon not to mess with Whiterun!”

“I’m glad you’re on our side Dragonborn!”

“Saadia,” Irileth cut over the top of the guards, “Return to the Jarl with what has happened here, I’ll continue to look for survivors and ensure the watchtower is secure.”

“Yeah of course.”  Saadia answered, still not sure what to think or feel. 

She turned back to the Dragon and snapped a piece of bone off.  She wanted to keep a piece of the first Dragon she had killed.  She had a feeling it wouldn’t be her last.

 

 

 


	3. Part 3

It ended up being a long slow walk back to Whiterun - completely alone.

She was exhausted, hungry and she’d ended up taking several pieces of bones so she could sell them.  And they were heavy.

It turned out that her magical satchel took away the size of the things she was carrying, but not their weight.  Still useful, but ultimately dependent on her own strength and stamina – the satchel could only carry as much as she could carry. 

She’d get stronger and be able to carry more, she wasn’t used to this much travelling around and carrying a bag.  That’s not what her life had been like on the Isle of Stirk.

She was nearing the stables of Whiterun when the light suddenly dimmed.  She looked up to see huge grey clouds suddenly rushing in to cover the sun.  The guards at the stables and on the fortifications and stable hands all looked up in fright.

And then there was a huge rumbling roar of thunder, the earth shook violently.

And as if shouted from far away, but right inside of her ears, Saadia heard a word that she both knew so well, but knew nothing about.

“DOVAHKIIN!”  The word sounded out, echoing from the mountain top.

The guards looked in wonder and awe towards the mountain and the sky cleared just as quickly as it had greyed over.

She heard whisperings as she continued her journey towards the castle.

“The Greybeards….”  She heard it repeated so many times.  But she didn’t have the energy to listen to their conversations.

They had called the name Dovahkiin.

The same name the old woman had called her.

The same thing the Dragon had said…

Saadia had a feeling it was about her.

But she was too tired. 

She would deliver her message to the Jarl, and sleep, eat, sell some things, fuck Farkas..

And then she was going to visit Hadvar, and to Oblivion with anyone else’s demands upon her time!

The Greybeards, whoever they were, could wait. 

 

***

 

Saadia finally saw Riverwood coming in to view again, the words of the Jarl still ringing in her ears, the strange woman following her silently. 

Jarl Balgruuf had said that it was a great honour to be summoned by the Greybeards, that she must go immediately, that it meant that she truly was Dragonborn…. That Dovahkiin meant Dragonborn.

The Jarl’s brother was adamant that the Dragonborn could and should be trusted with all matters – Talos had been Dragonborn, and he was a God now – and he had been the last person summoned by the Greybeards, hundreds of years ago.  Proventus had a more cautious voice, of course… but the Jarl, as always, had his own mind.  And he seemed to trust and like her.  He believed that if the Greybeards said she was Dragonborn, then that is what she was.  He told her of his time on pilgrimage, climbing the 7000 Steps to High Hrothgar; the Throat of the World, where the Greybeards lived.  They were masters in the way of The Voice… and they wanted to talk to her.  They could teach her how to master her gift.

She had questioned him for some time about the Greybeards and everything he knew about the Dragonborn myth.  He had been very accommodating and answered all her questions. 

He reiterated many times that there was no refusing a summons from the Greybeards…

He had been so thankful for her services in killing the Dragon, that he had declared her Thane of Whiterun and given her the Blade of Whiterun.  She intended to hang it up on her home – when she could finally afford to buy one.

Turns out that the only available home for sale in Whiterun was 5000 gold coins, and she had only half of that. 

With the title Thane came more respect from the guards, the right to be seen by the Jarl at any time… and a housecarl of her own.

Lydia.

A beautiful warrior, still a little green around the edges, but loyal already.

On the road here she had thrown herself between Saadia and some wolves – Saadia had nearly taken her head off with her warhammer.  Warhammers were heavy and slow – hard to change their direction once you had them going. 

Luckily Saadia was a gifted warrior…

They had both survived it and Saadia had spent a lot of the run here to Riverwood, contemplating what it meant to now be nobility in Whiterun.

She had been intending to become invisible – to disappear so her father and brothers could never find her… to lead a peaceful life…

So far this plan was not working out. 

She had told Farkas none of this.  She didn’t want to imagine what he’d say.  Thane… Dragonborn…

She had enjoyed his attentions for the night and told him she’d be back in a few weeks.  And he had accepted that with his usual graceful ease. 

‘We are honoured to have you as Thane of our city, Dragonborn.’  Hearing those words from Jarl Balgruuf had been strange.  Shouldn’t it be her honour to be the Thane of Whiterun? 

The past few days kept replaying in her head.

She needed some quiet time in this small town before she decided what to do.

Hammerfell was beginning to look good again.

She liked Skyrim; loved it.

But how could she avoid being caught by her father here?

She was a damned Thane now.

With a housecarl.

She turned to look at Lydia, running alongside her. 

She had given the barest flicker of a questioning expression when Saadia had made it clear that she was not going to immediately climb the 7000 Steps to see the Greybeards.  Saadia had respected that.  She could tell that any Nord around would think her mad for not immediately going to see them.

But she didn’t care. 

4 days after she first left Riverwood, she returned to see three guards camped on its outskirts, ready to help the villagers to safety should a Dragon come. 

From the moment she stepped foot in Riverwood she felt more at ease.

Alvor greeted her with a huge smile and nodded towards the guard walking down the street.

“Thank you, my friend!”  He beamed and pulled Saadia into a huge, tight bear-hug.

“My pleasure Alvor.”  Saadia answered, feeling a little choked up.  This somehow felt like coming home; these were the first people to care for her in Skyrim.  “How’s Hadvar.”

“Still resting in bed like a lazy mudcrab.”  He laughed, “But he’s mending up well.”

“Can I go in and see him?”

“Of course girl!”  Alvor answered, “and when you’re done with him, you can give me a hand at the forge?”

“Anything you need Alvor.”  She answered and headed for the front door to his home. 

“Can you wait out here?”  She asked Lydia, “Find a nice place to have a sit down and a drink?”

“Yes, my Thane.”  Lydia answered and sat on the front doorstep.  In her full battle gear, the people of Riverwood having a good gawk at her.  Saadia tried not to sigh and turned to the door.  

When she opened the door, she saw Hadvar sitting up reading in bed, his wounds bandaged.

“You’re looking better.”  She said and he looked up from his book, startled; he hadn’t heard the door open. 

“And you look worse!”  He noted.

“Thanks.”  She said and sat down on the bed. 

“You look like you need some sleep.”

“Ugh I do!”  She answered and laid back on the bedrest and looked over his shoulder at his book.  He showed her and she started to laugh.

“’A Gentleman’s Guide to Whiterun’?”  Saadia laughed, hardly able to contain herself.  “Oh this is terrible.”  She marvelled as she read it.

“I know!”  Hadvar laughed, “Apparently the bard at the Bannered Mare wrote it.”

“He is a bit sleazy.”  Saadia acknowledged as she flicked through the pages; it listed every woman in Whiterun and rated her looks and desirability, and if he had bedded her, it revealed all the details.  “A lot sleazy.”  She corrected with distaste. 

“Did you bring me any actually good books to read?”  He asked and she noticed the lack of books in the cottage.

“I only have a few.”  She said, “But you can have them if you need them.”  She pulled them out of her bag and handed them to him.

“You’re brilliant.  Thank you.”  He took them and looked through the titles, the last one making him raise an eyebrow; ‘The Dragonborn.’  She had no desire to keep that book anymore. 

“You must be bored with nothing to read.”  Saadia noted, thinking that the books she brought him wouldn’t last long.  She’d have to find some more for him. 

“The guards out there said a Dragon attacked the Western Watchtower.”  He said and Saadia nodded.  “They also said that a newcomer was made Thane of Whiterun… and that she’s Dragonborn.”  He watched Saadia looking down at her hands, twiddling her fingers as if that was the most interesting thing she had ever done.  “Took you 4 days.”  He laughed and she sighed.

“I don’t know what they’re talking about!”  She declared.  “All I did was kill a Dragon.” 

“And consume its soul?”  He asked.  “Sorry,” He corrected, “Its power…”

Saadia threw her hands up in frustration.

“I suppose!”  She said and he laughed. 

“Did you do it deliberately?”

“No it feels more like it did it to me…”  She told him and he sighed and laced his arm through hers.

“So Dragonborn, eh?”  He asked with an amused glint in his eye.  She rolled her eyes at him.  “Was it your ma or pa that was the Dragon?”  He laughed while she groaned at his joke.  “But really, it’s very important to our people.”  He said, “Talos was a Dragonborn.”

“And he became a God.”  She droned out the words she’d heard the guard say.  “So who was it Talos or Tiber Septim?”  She asked.

“Same man.”  He answered, “Talos was known as Tiber Septim, and also Ysmir.  He united all the nations of Tamriel into one Empire.  He was adored and worshipped across all of Tamriel, but especially Skyrim.”

“Because he’s a Nord.”

“Aye.”  Hadvar said, “He began the third era and the Septim Dynasty who ruled Tamriel for centuries… it was the most peaceful Tamriel had ever been.” 

“And he was the last person summoned to the Greybeards?”

“I heard the summons from here.”  Hadvar said, “You know you have to go.”

“I suppose.”  Saadia answered softly, “But first I had to come and see you!”  She said with a big grin that he returned, “And I need a rest, the past 4 days have been really hectic.”

“Well yeah,” Hadvar laughed, “I’ve lived here my whole life and not become Thane!  You’ve been busy woman!”  Saadia sighed and groaned loudly, burying her face in her hands.  “Spend a few days resting…”  Hadvar accepted her need for a delay, “but…”

“I’ll go.”  She reassured him.  “I’ll go.” 

Sigrid came in and gave a delighted squeal.

“Saadia!”  She said holding her arms out for a hug.  “Thank you for the guards; we all feel so much safer.”

“It’s only three guards.”  Saadia fretted for their safety.

“Oh it’s enough to give us a chance to escape.”  She said simply.  Saadia knew otherwise.  “It’s lovely that you came to visit Hadvar.”  She said putting her basket of food on the table.  “Are you staying for a while?”

“A few days?”  She asked.

“Of course.”  Sigrid answered, “And your… friend…?”  She asked a little more stiffly.

“Lydia…”  Saadia frowned.  “I guess we can stay in the inn.”

“No, I wouldn’t hear of it!”  Sigrid said looking around the small cottage, trying to figure out where to put them all. 

“Lydia?”  Hadvar asked.

“My housecarl.”  Saadia mumbled and Hadvar started to laugh.

“You haven’t even got a house yet!”  He chortled happily while Saadia glared at him.  Eventually she started to laugh too while Sigrid mumbled about getting some straw to make some makeshift mattresses. 

“Alright, I have to go and give this golden claw thing back to Lucan and Camilla.”  Saadia said, “I’ll be back later.”  She told Hadvar, “rest up!  And Sigrid!  We’ll stay at the inn!”

“Well I insist on you eating here!”  She returned and Saadia nodded.

“If you think I’m missing the chance to eat your amazing cooking again, you’re wrong!”  Saadia answered, leaving Sigrid beaming.

She crossed the street to The Riverwood Trader, Lydia following closely behind, like a shadow.

Lydia was going to take some getting used to.

Lucan praised her repeatedly, shoved a lot of gold coin in her hand and proudly put the gold claw back on the counter top, a huge smile on his face.

Camilla was oddly quiet, but when Saadia looked at her, the beauty gave her a wink and a small smile that could easily be interpreted as sexual. 

Next she went next door to the Sleeping Giant Inn to book two rooms, one for Lydia and one for herself. 

Lydia was moved to near tears that her Thane would bother to get her a room of her own.

“What do you expect me to do?  Leave you sleeping in the stables?”

“No, my Thane, for I must guard you all night.  I would rest on the floor outside your room.”  Lydia answered. 

Saadia was made silent by those words; a housecarl wasn’t expecting much love from the person they would give their lives to protect.

This kind of servitude was something she didn’t feel comfortable with.

“Can I give you a wage?”  She asked, thinking about how little gold she had.

“I am afforded a wage from the Jarl’s treasury.”  She answered, “And if you were to own a home in Whiterun, all of my furniture and belongings would also be paid for by the throne.”  She explained.

“Ok but… I want you to know that you deserve a bed, just like me.  And clothes and good food.  Ok?”

“I deserve what you choose to give me, Thane.”  Lydia answered simply.

“Well that’s what I choose to give you.”  Saadia retorted.

“Honour to you, Thane.”  Lydia answered, simply accepting whatever Saadia chose for her. 

Saadia bought a Honningbrew Mead for both of them and sat down at the counter, asking the barkeeper how things were going in Riverwood.  Lydia stood behind her, on the lookout for any danger to her Thane. 

Orgnar, the barkeep, spoke of whispers of a boy in Windhelm trying to contact the Dark Brotherhood, a shadowy group of assassins, and of a love triangle in town with 2 men vying for Camilla’s affections, he mentioned the shrine of Azura, and told her of a bounty the Jarl had on a giant’s head. 

And then Sven, the inn’s bard, one of the men vying for Camilla’s affection, broke out into song: ‘Ragnar the Red’

He was a far better bard than the bard in Whiterun.  Saadia sat down to listen to him, again transfixed by the way he sung and wove the tail of a braggart warrior and a young maiden named Matilda who beheaded him. 

It was beautiful… not the content of the song, but the storytelling, and his voice; beautiful.

He sat down next to her after he’d finished his song.

“Sven!”  He held out his hand to her.  She recognised him as the blond man that had waved hello to her a few days ago, when she and Hadvar had first come to Riverwood after the attack on Helgen.  She shook his hand.  “I hear you’re responsible for getting us those guards!”  He beamed at her, “I wanted to thank you personally.”

“Thanks.”  Saadia answered, thinking that gossip sure did move around Skyrim pretty quickly.  This was not helping her ultimate quest to become invisible.  She gave him a tight smile and sipped on her mead. 

“I was wondering if you could help me out with something?”  He asked with a pleasant smile.

“What’s wrong?”  Saadia asked, and then mentally kicked herself for getting herself involved again. 

“I am in love with Camilla Valerius.”  He declared and Saadia sighed softly, “And she knows I am the best man in Riverwood.”  He continued, “If that Elf thinks he has a chance with Camilla, he’s kidding himself.” 

“Elf?”  She asked half-heartedly.

“I’ve seen him sneaking over to the Riverwood Trader to speak to her when he thinks I’m not around.”

“Right…”  Saadia was confused as to what he thought she was going to do about it.    
“Faendal thinks he can woo Camilla Valerius away from me.  She's already mine, I keep telling him!”  Sven said in an outraged voice.  
“Yes.  Two people spending time together never blossoms into courtship…” Saadia wasn’t feeling overly sympathetic towards a man who called a woman ‘his.’  She had seen enough of women being treated like property from her father. 

“Is that sarcasm?’  He asked angrily, “I’ve heard better wisecracks from Orgnar.”  He shot back at Saadia.  “But still… you have a point.”  He admitted unhappily, “Camilla letting Faendal visit her isn’t a good thing for me.”  He bit his thumbnail in pensive thought and Saadia looked back at Lydia, to see her giving him the most loathsome look she had ever seen on a woman’s face. 

Saadia scoffed slightly and managed to get her laugh under control, sounding like a cough, Sven ignoring her, but Lydia turning her attention to her Thane immediately. 

Saadia gave Lydia an amused look and Lydia smiled back with the same expression.

There; she was human after all, Saadia thought.  Maybe she’d be able to get used to Lydia eventually. 

“Here,” Sven held out a piece of paper to Saadia, “Let me give you a particularly venomous letter.  Tell Camilla it’s from Faendal.”  He instructed her, “That’ll get her to stop inviting the Elf over.”  He said triumphantly. 

Saadia held the letter like it was a piece of skeever dung, but Lucan, Camilla’s brother, had entered the inn and was demanding a song.  Sven gave her a warm smile and started to play his drum for Lucan, who was telling everyone how Saadia had returned the golden claw; besting hundreds of bandits to return it to him, her good friend. 

Saadia got up and left the inn, Lydia following.

Outside she opened the letter and read it out loud to Lydia.

“Dear Camilla, I know I have called upon you at your house many times, and while we may be growing close, I need you to put any desires you have for me aside.  I am a true-born son of Valenwood, and I could never befoul my bloodline by courting an Imperial.  I hope we can remain true friends, provided you understand your people’s place in the Aldmeri Dominion, and respect me as such.  Sincerely, Faendal.”  Saadia sighed and looked at Lydia, who shared the look of distaste.  “I don’t want anything to do with this.”  Saadia said, “I won’t lie to a young woman for a man who sees her as property.”  Saadia said.

“If I may?”  Lydia asked and Saadia nodded, “Nor would I want anything to do with this ruse, my Thane.”  She told Saadia, “Such lies are not honourable; he seeks to capture this girl and hold him to her with dishonesty.  It is unacceptable and unfair for the girl.  Honesty is the best course of action.”

“Agreed.”  Saadia answered and headed towards The Riverwood Trader.

Camilla was taking the lunch shift while Lucan was at the inn. 

“It’s a fine day with you around.”  Camilla said as soon as she saw Saadia.

“Camilla…” Saadia sighed, “I’m sorry to have to do this, but Sven wanted me to give you this letter and lie…”  Saadia held up the letter, “to say it was from Faendal.  He wanted me to trick you for him.”

“What are you talking about?”  She sounded hurt, “What’s in the letter?”  She took the letter form Saadia and read it, “Oh my…”  She muttered as she read it, “He wanted me to think that Faendal wrote this?”  She shook her head.  “That son of a Hagraven!”  She said angrily, the fire coming into her eyes, her cheeks burning red.

She stormed from the store, slamming the door behind her, Saadia and Lydia in tow.

As soon as she was in the inn she stormed over to Sven, who was singing a song to the lunch time crowd. 

“HOW DARE YOU?”  She screamed at Sven and spat in his face.

“Wha-?” 

But she slapped the word right out of his mouth.

“I can see whoever I want Sven.”  She said, “And I can court with whoever I want.  You don’t own me and you have no right to try to sabotage my friendships.”  She shoved the letter in Sven’s face.  The crowd beginning to laugh and jeer, Lucan holding his hands up to her to calm her down, but she ignored them all. 

“Camilla-”

“STAY AWAY FROM ME!”  She said and stormed out of the inn. 

Sven turned to look at Saadia.

“You…” he made to lunge at Saadia, but Lydia stepped in between Saadia and Sven, punching the bard in the face with the flat of her palm, breaking his nose.

“OW!”  Sven said, his hands going to his nose.  “MY FACE!”  He complained, “How am I supposed to sing with a broken nose?”

“It’ll heal.”  Lydia answered with an emotionless tone, the crowd cheering her on. 

“Why would you do this to me?”  Sven asked Saadia, “I thought you helped people.”

“I do.”  Saadia answered, “I helped her.  I helped her free herself of a liar.”

“Faendal would’ve done the same thing!”  Sven yelled at her.

“I’ve never met Faendal.”  Saadia answered, “I’ve only met you, and seen the way you handle yourself.  And I wanted no part in it.  If Faendal attempted the same thing, I’d’ve done the same thing to him.”  She looked around at the crowd, “I’ll help you all, but I won’t lie like this for you.”  She looked back at Sven.  “I hope you can learn and grow from this.”

“To Oblivion with you!”  He said angrily.

Saadia shrugged and headed out of the inn, deciding she should find this Faendal fellow and tell him what had happened here. 

She found him chopping wood at the mill.

When he saw her he stopped and took a deep breath, looking around. 

“There’s beauty here, unmatched in all of Skyrim.”

“It is beautiful.”  She agreed.  “Listen, Sven just tried to trick Camilla into thinking you were an arsehole.”

“What?”

“And he says you’d’ve done the same.  And I just want you to know, that if that’s true… I’ll catch you.”  She said, “If you want to court that lady, fine, but no lies.  Understood?”

“Understood.”  Faendal answered with a guarded voice.  “Now can you tell me what happened?” 

Saadia filled him in on the details and Faendal was left shaking his head and then he laughed.

“Sven’s right.”  He admitted, “If I’d’ve gotten desperate enough, I might’ve tried something like that.  You have saved me from my baser self.”  He said and handed her some gold coins, “thank you friend.” 

“You both love her very much?”  Saadia asked and Faendal nodded.

“Yes, but she wasn’t allowing Sven to court her.”  Faendal gave a coy smile, “However, she did go to watch him sing at the inn.  A lot.  And he called her his muse.”

“So you were jealous.”

“Oh yes.”  Faendal freely admitted, “but I kept reminding myself, that I was the only person she allowed to see her in her own home.  And that is a very important detail in Riverwood.” 

“Well I wish you luck then.”  Saadia answered.

“Thank you friend.  And if you ever need archery training, I’d be willing to teach you… for a much smaller fee than I charge anyone else.”

“Thanks.”  Saadia said and headed back to Alvor; it was time to help her old friend out with his forge. 

But it turned out he was really wanting to help her out; He taught her how to make the warhammer she had better, making it do more damage and be less heavy.  He tempered her steel armour to make it stronger and lighter.  He worked for hours, teaching her everything he could.

And then he thanked her again for the guards, and invited her and Lydia to dinner with his family, not realising that Sigrid had already done that. 

 

***

 

That night she lay in bed in the inn and wondered what her sisters, back on Stirk, were doing. 

Lydia had wanted to stand guard at her door, or sleep on the floor at the end of the bed – for Saadia’s protection.

But Saadia had insisted that she sleep in her bed and rest, again nearly bringing tears to her eyes.  Lydia had obeyed, and Saadia had moved a step closer to feeling more comfortable about having a housecarl. 

Saadia heard the door open.  Whoever it was coming into her darkened room, they were attempting to be very stealthy.

She wondered if it was Sven, coming to get his revenge. 

She waited, her muscles tensing up, ready to spring into action.

“Saadia?”  It was a woman’s voice, soft and questioning.

“What is it?”  She asked sitting up, the blankets falling from her naked form. 

A candle was lit and Saadia saw Camilla standing in her room, her eyes taking in Saadia’s naked upper torso.

“I just wanted to…” Camilla stopped, blushed and sat in the chair opposite Saadia’s bed.  “I wanted to thank you again for everything you’ve done for me.” 

“It’s fine.”  Saadia answered, “You deserve good things.” 

“Thanks.”  Camilla looked like she wanted to say more, but didn’t know how to.  She sat there for a moment longer and then stood up, “I shouldn’t have come here… I’m interrupting your sleep.”  She said, blushing and looking down as she turned to the door.

“Why did you really come?”  Saadia asked, “Do you want me to take you when I next go adventuring?”  She asked.

Camilla turned to her with a grin.

“I’d love that!”  She said and then paused, her face dropping.  “But I know my brother couldn’t cope without me and… I don’t think I’d like the reality of adventuring half as much as the idea of it.” 

“It’s takes a wise person to know that about themselves.” 

“You’re so kind.”  Camilla said in a rushed voice.  “Not a lot of travellers come through Riverwood and, well… and even fewer of them are half of kind as you.”

“Thank you.”  She said and motioned to the chair, “You can sit down again, if you want.”

Camilla seemed genuinely happy that Saadia had asked her to sit.

“Lucan says I made a fool of myself and that I owe you and Sven and everyone in the inn an apology.”

“Nonsense.” 

“That’s what I said!”  She said fiercely. 

“Anyone that seeks to trap another person in a relationship with lies deserves what they get.”  Saadia added and Camilla gave her a satisfied smile.

“I know!”  She agreed.  “I never gave Sven any sign that I was allowing him to court me.”  She continued, “And my people, Imperials, are quite strict with courtship; not like Nords.”  She noted, “Faendal learned my Imperial ways and has been very respectful…”

“So you favour him.”

But Camilla sighed.

“I do…”  She sighed again, “I mean, if I must choose, then I would choose him.”  She bit her bottom lip, obviously anxious.  “And I suppose I should choose soon.  I’m not a young woman anymore.”  She lowered her eyes.

“What is it?”  Saadia could see that Camilla was conflicted, possibly even ashamed. 

“Imperials can be very rigid about many things.”  She continued, “Some things that Nords are more understanding about.  I wonder how Elves or Redguards feel about the same things.”  She picked at the skin around her nails. 

“What sort of things?”  Saadia asked, scooting to the edge of the bed, pulling the blanket with her; it was a chilly night. 

Camilla hesitated, like she didn’t know how to say what she wanted to say – what she had come here to say. 

“I’m not ready for marriage.  I will be soon… but not yet…”  She whispered hurriedly, “I’ve barely experienced half of what this life has to offer… and yes I’d like to go on adventures, grow my own food, maybe have my own business!  And…”  She paused, “And have lovers.”  She raised her chin, attempting to be fiercely proud of this last assertion, but in the end her face dropped.

“There’s nothing wrong with the things you want in life.”  Saadia assured her.

“Faendal will not wait forever.”  Camilla answered, “And he might not even want me when he sees...”  She stopped speaking and stared at her lap, pulling at her nails.

“Sees what?”  Saadia prompted. 

“Nords are more accepting in this regard.”  She said sadly.  “They can be fairly racist… but they’re not so bad with…”  She looked away, “At least not in my experience…  But I’m not very experienced.”  She sighed and looked up at Saadia.  “Can I trust you?  What would a Redguard think of such things?”  Saadia could tell that Camilla was talking to herself.

“I’m half Nord.”  Saadia soothed, “And besides, I’ve lived in seclusion for all of my 28 summers, until a few days ago.  So I don’t know how a Nord or a Redguard might respond.  I only know how I might respond.  So give me a hypothetical situation, and I’ll tell you how I’d respond.”

“Alright.”  Camilla answered, “What if a Dragon was attacking and there was a burning building with a dozen people in it, and a single person about to be eaten by the Dragon, but you could only save one or the other, which would you save?”

“I would save both.”

“But what if you can only save one?”

“I would find a way to save all the people in the burning building, and the person about to be eaten.”  Saadia maintained firmly.

“I believe you.”  She said in awe of this warrior.  “And what if… you found out your new friend was actually an Argonian in disguise?”  She asked and Saadia shrugged.

“I have many half-siblings that are half Argonian, I have no issue with them.”  She answered, “I would ask them why they felt the need to hide their identity, and see if I could help them in some way.”

“What if, the Jarl of Whiterun asked you to lie to the Jarl of Winterhold for him?”

“Depends on why, and what the lie is and if anyone would get hurt.”  Saadia answered.

“What if a beautiful woman you knew, who was admired by many, actually had been called a boy as a child?”  Camilla asked almost breathlessly. 

“Then I would assume her parents were fools for mistaking something like that.”  Saadia answered.

“Perhaps she was called a boy because she had… has a cock.”  Camilla continued and Saadia was reminded of what her father believed, and what Farkas had said. 

“Well it’s true that most women have a kunte…”  Saadia said slowly, “But I do know that there’s a wide variety of things that can be found below the waist… have you seen Argonian genitals?  They can change them to be whatever they want!”  She asked with a glint in her eye, “it seems somewhat crude to me to define a person solely by what one might find in their undergarments.  We are all so much more than just our physical bodies.”  Saadia shrugged, “If a person is a woman, they are a woman, and no amount of posturing from others will change that.”  Saadia saw relief on Camilla’s face.

“I met a Nord man 3 winters ago… a beautiful man, strong and wild.”  Her eyes misted over, “I would have married him in a heartbeat – he set my pulse racing just by looking at him.  He was here, clearing out some local caves of Vampires.  And a sabretooth cat somehow ended up in our cellar.  I asked him to kill her for us.  But she had littered; 6 tiny cubs.  He wouldn’t kill a mother cat… so he tempted her out of the cellar, and took her and her cubs to an Orc stronghold, where the cubs where trained to be loved pets, and the mother is still semi-wild and ferocious.  I’d never met someone so brutal, yet so kind.”  She looked down.  “Until then I had been a virgin, I was… unwilling to be seen naked.  But something about him…”  She took a deep breath and looked up at Saadia, “I was so scared when he undressed me, but he seemed completely unfazed by my cock…”  She looked for any sign from Saadia that she was disgusted by these words, and saw none.  She smiled gratefully and continued her story, “We had a wonderful night of lovemaking… and he was gone the next morning.”  She sighed and smiled in memory, “I knew he was not the marrying kind… but he made me think of marrying for the first time in my life.  My mother had said no man would want me… When I said that if that was the case perhaps a woman would want me… she laughed in my face.”  Camilla wiped away a tear, “So they shipped me out here, with my brother Lucan as my bodyguard, to hide the family shame: their youngest son… cavorting around as a daughter.” 

“And you’ve been denying yourself love since then?”  Saadia asked and Camilla nodded.

“Even though I’ve wanted it… I sometimes flirt just to feel like… I’m not undesirable.”  She admitted. 

“And you do this because you are afraid people will be-”

“Disgusted.”  Camilla said bitterly. 

“The words our parents say to us can bite harder than the coldest winter.”  Saadia said and Camilla put her hands over her face.  Saadia went to her and held her as she sobbed.  “Just because she was your mother, it doesn’t mean she was right.”  Saadia said as Camilla clung to her.

“But I know I’ll always be alone.  I’ll die alone… How could Faendal want this?”  She wept.

“He’d be a fool not to!”  Saadia declared.  “You are beautiful Camila Valerius.  But more importantly, you are passionate, fiery, intelligent, honourable and loyal…”  Camilla looked up at her with hope in her eyes.  A hope she had not dared to allow herself to feel all these years.  “I desired you the moment I saw you, and I desire you no less know that I know your secret.”  Saadia said to prove her point, “And I assume it was Farkas, that-”

“Yes!”  Camilla answered, “How did you know?”

“I know him.”  Saadia answered, “He wanted you too!”   Saadia pointed out.

“Yes but it’s one thing to want to rut with someone and another to want to spend your life with them!”  Camilla pointed out. 

“True.”  Saadia agreed, “But you are clearly not undesirable.”

“I suppose.”  She mumbled.

“And you did say that you were not ready for marriage.”

“But when I am… I would want it to be Faendal.”  She answered, “My parents will hate me for marrying an Elf.”  She sighed sadly.

“I don’t think their opinions really matter anymore do they?”  Saadia asked, “They gave up their right to comment on your life when they decided who you are was not good enough for them.”

Camilla looked at Saadia with a look of revelation.

“You’re right.”  She said firmly.  “But what if he thinks my… physicality is befouling his bloodline; he is a true son of Valenwood.  And I can’t have children!”  She said and Saadia squeezed her shoulders.

“Adopt.”  She said, “And if he’s the kind of person to think you are anything other than perfect then he does not deserve you.” 

“You are a good friend.”  She kissed Saadia’s cheek.  “If I can do anything for you…”

“I’ll let you know.”  Saadia replied, “But what can I do for you?”  Saadia knew that there was a lot on Camilla’s mind.

“I’ve been trying to save money so I can go to the face-sculptor in Riften.”  She said, “Apparently they can change your appearance; face, body… everything.” 

“But you’re perfect the way you are…”

“Only because I take that damned mushroom.”  She said, “Belethor charges a fortune for it, but I have no other source of it.” 

“What mushroom?”

“It’s a glowing mushroom, when the exact right amount of it is taken, it allows your true inner self to shine out… it’s why I have breasts and no facial hair.  I still have my cock though.”  She added, obviously still worried about what Saadia might think.

“So you want it gone?”

“I don’t know.”  She answered, “I think… I think it would depend on… Faendal.”  She admitted.  “I would do it for him… but if he accepts me… then I like my cock.  I am a woman with breasts and a cock… And… It’s how I feel whole and complete.”

“And the face-sculptor…?”

“They could do it so that my breasts stayed without needing the mushroom.  And they could get rid of my cock and give me a kunte if I decide that…  I just need someone to take me there when I have enough money.  It’s a very dangerous journey to Riften…”

“Of course.”  Saadia answered.  “I’ll take you.”  She said as she got up and went to her satchel.  Besides selling off the dragon bones to Farengar, she hadn’t had chance to sell anything; she intended to sell it all to Lucan tomorrow morning.  “Do you mean these mushrooms?”  Saadia asked as she took them out of her satchel.

“Yes!”  Camilla said taking the mushrooms from Saadia’s hand, “Where did you get them?  They’re very rare!”

“I found them growing in a cave.”  Saadia said. 

“I could buy them from you?”  Camilla said hopefully. 

“How much does this Belethor person charge?”

“50 gold per mushroom, and they aren’t half as fresh as these!”  Camilla said, “And each mushroom only lasts about 6 days.”

“Alright, how about 5 gold per mushroom?”  Saadia asked, knowing she needed the money, but she couldn’t extort this woman like Belethor was.  Camilla stared at her with surprised shock.

And then she lunged at Saadia, grabbing her and kissing her passionately, the women tumbling onto the bed, Saadia on top of Camilla, Camilla’s long legs wrapping around Saadia’s waist. 

Camilla’s hands ran up Saadia’s back firmly.

“Your body is magnificent.”  She groaned, enjoying the feel of Saadia’s big muscles moving under her fat. 

Saadia was unlacing Camilla’s top, kissing down her neck.

“As is yours.”  She returned, her stomach doing somersaults. 

“I’ve never done this before…  I mean been with a woman…”  Camilla said as her hand cupped Saadia’s breast, her mouth going to Saadia’s neck.

“Me either.”  Saadia answered as she pulled at the bodice of Camilla’s dress. 

Camilla started to giggle at Saadia’s struggles with her laces and Saadia made a grumpy noise that Camilla found adorable.  She laughed louder as she helped Saadia undress her, revelling in the feel of her hot, wet kisses all over her neck and chest as her clothing came off. 

Saadia took her time kissing slowly down Camilla’s slender body, her hands travelling down her body in the same movement, Camilla arching her back, revelling in the sensation of being touched, kissed and adored again. 

Saadia snaked her tongue down Camilla’s abdomen, her hands gently caressing her pale thighs, her eyes looking back up at Camilla’s beautiful face, in awe of how her dark hair fanned out across the pillow so elegantly, how her cheeks became pink with her desire.

Saadia took Camilla’s cock into her mouth.

She truly did have a beautiful cock, wonderfully symmetrical, the pubic hair neatly trimmed, and not too long for Saadia to take completely into her throat.

Camilla groaned deeply and gripped the bed, thrusting her hips up.  Saadia cupped her balls – just as Farkas had shown her, massaging them firmly, but not too firmly, moving her mouth up and down her shaft, swirling her tongue over the head of her cock every time her head bobbed up. 

“By the Gods!”  Camilla gasped.  “Who taught you how to do a Dibellan kiss?”  Camilla had not expected it to be so good since Saadia had said this was her first time…

Saadia smiled up at Camilla.

“Farkas.”  She said and they both laughed.

“Of course!”  Camilla was giddy with pleasure and happiness.

“He’s a good teacher.”  Saadia grinned, licking along the tip of Camilla’s cock, leaving it wet and glistening.

“Oh yes.”  Camilla agreed, her eyes locked on Saadia’s mouth. 

Saadia sucked Camilla’s cock, getting very sloppy and wet as she took the full length of her cock down her throat repeatedly, and then she stopped, and licked her balls while firmly stroking her shaft. 

Camilla raised her leg, spreading her thighs and Saadia licked behind her balls, down her arse crack and back up to the tip of her cock. 

And then Saadia sucked it hard and aggressively, moving up and down the shaft fast, listening to the sounds of Camilla’s groans growing in pitch until she exploded.

Saadia had never tasted semen before.

It wasn’t particularly nice, but it wasn’t terrible either and she swallowed it more in surprise than anything else, some of it dribbling down her chin as she crawled back up the bed to Camilla.

Camilla kissed her passionately, the taste of her semen mingling with their passionate kisses, their tongues dances like tavern girls from Elsweyr. 

“May I try to do a Dibellan kiss?”  Camilla asked excitedly.

“Please do!”  Saadia said and laid back on the bed as Camilla rose onto her elbow.

She smiled down at Saadia, amazed by the thickness of her dark red hair, the beauty of her soft, clear, black skin, lustful for her full pouting lips, intoxicated by her mismatched eyes; stunning amber yellow and haunting sky blue, mesmerised by her thick, strong body. 

“You are a true beauty Saadia.”  Camilla said as she stroked her face, “What did the people of Skyrim do to deserve you?”  She whispered, kissing her gently. 

“What did I do to deserve Skyrim?  And you?”  She asked between tender kisses. 

“You are a blessing from the Gods.”  Camilla said gently, her fingers tracing down Saadia’s body, “Ever since I met you, things have been looking up.”

“Except for the Dragons.” 

“You’ll protect us.  I know it.”  She answered instantly.  “They say you’re Dragonborn.  I don’t know if that’s true, and I won’t ask you if it is… I don’t care.  What I do know is that you’re good, and kind… and you’ll protect us - you’ll save us.”

Saadia didn’t know how to reply to that, all she could do was look up into Camilla’s deep blue eyes and feel her skin tingling where her fingers traced patterns down her body. 

“Now it’s your turn to be the teacher.”  Camilla said as she slid down the bed and use her long fingers to part Saadia’s thighs, tickled down her legs with her fingertips as she settled in between her legs, her eyes on Saadia’s kunte.

She ran her fingers along the place where Saadia’s labia met and stared in wonder.

“It’s beautiful.”  She said as she gently parted Saadia’s lips to see her clitoris.  She bit her bottom lip and stroked Saadia’s clit with her fingertip, looking up at the magnificent woman for guidance, watching her expression as she traced along the little nub.  When she groaned, a smile of pleasure kissing her full lips, Camilla knew she had found the ‘sweet spot’ she’d heard the drunken men in the tavern bragging about.  She watched beauty in motion as Saadia stretched out lazily and then arched her back, glowing with bliss, her fingers twining in the blankets.

Her smell was intoxicating, and even though Camilla was nervous about doing it wrong she wanted to taste Saadia.

So she took her fingers away from Saadia’s clit and lowered her lips to Saadia’s kunte, licking her labia gently, testing the waters.

“You teasing me?”  Saadia said with a chuckle.

“Of course!”  Camilla lied; she actually didn’t know what she was doing, and she suspected that Saadia knew that too.

“Well you’re doing a good job of that.”  Saadia reassured her.  So Camilla licked along her labia again, kissing her inner thighs and lower abdomen, looking up with a grin when Saadia squirmed with impatience. 

But Camilla liked this game; she kissed down Saadia’s legs and laughed when Saadia made an impatient squeal and looked down at her, an eyebrow raised in question. 

She winked back at Saadia’s expression and licked along the bottom of her foot. 

Saadia squirmed with ticklishness, giggling and trying to pull her foot away, but Camilla held on and sucked her big toe into her mouth.

Saadia squealed again, laughing riotously, Camilla starting to laugh too. 

The two woman roared with laughter, exploring what felt good.

Camilla intended to try and suck every one of Saadia’s toes, and Saadia wasn’t sure if she could handle it – it was so ticklish. 

“Deep breaths!”  Saadia said to herself, trying to get herself under control.  Her sister had taught her a trick with pain; to imagine that it was simply energy that could be spread out throughout the whole body, thus diluting the pain by making it not so intense in the one spot.  She tried to do that with this ticklishness.

She suddenly felt waves of tickling caresses across her body, every inch of her skin feeling sensitive; like there were fingertips writing love poems all over her. 

She sighed contently, and groaned as Camilla sucked her next toe.

“It’s good.”  Saadia told her, still close to hysterical giggling from the ticklishness, but also simultaneously feeling the diffused sensation all over her body. 

“I am learning so much from you…”  Camilla said as she walked her fingers up Saadia’s leg, “You’re far more vocal about what you like than the men at the tavern say women are.”  She explained.

“Those men are probably such poor lovers that their womenfolk know not to bother telling them anything.”  Saadia quipped.

“I have heard some women complain of male incompetence in the bedroom.”  She agreed with a scandalised giggle before she crawled between Saadia’s leg, her lips again pressed against the big woman’s inner thighs, her tongue swirling around on her skin, tasting her sweet salt. 

And then quite suddenly she licked Saadia’s labia, harder, her tongue slipping between her lips to gently flick her erect and waiting clit.

Saadia gasped and groaned, her fingers instantly gripping Camilla’s hair.

Camilla chuckled with deep lust and appreciation.

“So you like that…”  She said and used her fingers to part Saadia’s lips, she looked at her clitoris for a moment before sucking it, rolling it between her lips; wondering if Saadia would like that.

“It’s too sensitive…”  She gasped and Camilla sucked less firmly.  “That’s good!”  Saadia purred. 

Camilla tried licking with the tip of her tongue, gently, precision…

She tried licking with the flat of her tongue, hard, taking in her whole clit…

She tried circling the clit…

Licking one side and then the other…

Camilla tried it all, and Saadia gave moaning, groaning, gasping, sighing feedback.  Sometimes with words and sometimes just with a deep guttural sigh, melting into the bed with pleasure, her fingers gripping Camilla’s hair tighter still, her hips moving rhythmically. 

When she came, Camilla was shocked by the way her body shook, and Saadia had to pull her hair to tell her to keep going; her words were caught in her throat, the orgasmic bliss stopping her breath momentarily as the pleasure filled her whole being. 

They lay together in each other’s arms, dozing in between talking and eating, for some time.

“I would have you experience penetration as I do.”  Camilla whispered to her, urgently, a deep sexual need in her voice.  “I did not know how good my body could feel until…”

“Farkas.”  Saadia laughed, “Boy knows how to do it.”  She agreed. 

“And you.”  Camilla blushed, “But there’s so much more for us to explore together…”

“Agreed.”  Saadia murmured as she kissed Camilla deeply. 

“Lay back.”  Camilla whispered, once again settling between Saadia’s thighs, but this time, her attention focused on licking Saadia’s arse, her finger gently stroking Saadia’s clit. 

After a few moments, Camilla reached for the butter left on Saadia’s plate on the table.

“What do you need that for?”

“Trust me on this.”  Camilla answered with a shy grin as she gently inserted a finger, greased with the butter, in Saadia’s arse, her eyes on Saadia’s face, looking for any sign of discomfort. 

“That’s new!”  Saadia was surprised, but excited. 

“Bad new or-”

“Good new…”  Saadia assured her, but she didn’t know what was to come and it was exhilarating and scary at the same time. 

Camilla carefully put another finger in and gently separated the fingers, stretching Saadia’s sphincter, ready for penetration. 

“Farkas taught me this.”  She said softly.

“I wonder who taught him.”  Saadia said as she shifted her hips to allow Camilla better access; this was an interesting experience, with unexpected sensations.  She felt oddly full in the bowel, but not like she needed to go behind the bushes. 

“I gather he learned most of it through trial and error over the past decade or so.”  Camilla said as she withdrew her fingers and rubbed the butter on her hard penis, preparing herself to make love to Saadia. 

She very gently began pressed the head of her cock against Saadia’s anus and Saadia closed her eyes, focussing on the sensation of being opened up like this. 

Slowly, Camilla filled Saadia, thrusting with even pressure, gently pulling back occasionally before moving forward again. 

Once she was fully inside Saadia, she paused, giving her time to grow accustomed to it, before she leaned down and wrapped one of her arms under Saadia, the other one snaking down to gently rub her clitoris.

Saadia wrapped her arms around Camilla, holding her close while she slowly thrust in and out of her, their eyes locked on each other, their breaths mingling, Saadia’s body tingling with electricity as the gentle strokes Camilla was applying to her clit started to heat things up. 

Saadia wrapped her legs around Camilla, and the women began to kiss slowly, deeply, with great tenderness, almost delicacy… interrupted only by staring into each other’s eyes, Saadia gently stroking Camilla’s back, her face, her hair. 

The intimacy of this sweet lovemaking was incredibly intense, and Saadia found that intimacy was what made sex so good for her. 

Saadia’s shuddering orgasm was almost silent but it was powerful and unlike any other orgasm she’d had before.  Different, but not better.  She gasped and dug her fingers into Camilla’s back as her body contracted around Camilla’s cock, their eyes locked.  Camilla moved her hand away when Saadia was finished, so that she could gently stroke Saadia’s face, until her own orgasm came – Saadia could feel every single pulse of her cock.  It was intensely erotic. 

Camilla collapsed on top of her and they laughed, kissing and rolling around for a long while until Saadia straddled Camilla and slid her beautiful cock into her kunte. 

Saadia bounced on top of Camilla roughly, Camilla sitting up to kiss her breasts as they bounded up and down, thrusting her hips up to meet Saadia with as much vigour and stamina as Saadia.

Saadia came, crying out loudly, and Camilla took the opportunity to roll her over and fuck her roughly from on top, the two women kissing aggressively, their breasts pressed together, Saadia cupping Camilla’s arse, pulling her in harder and deeper. 

They came together, both of them crying out in pleasure, Camilla collapsing on top of Saadia, both of them panting.

“Yes I think 5 gold will be acceptable.”  Camilla said, panting, sweat dripping from her body as she rolled over to be beside Saadia.

They looked at each other and burst out into laughter. 

“Then we have a deal.”  Saadia continued to laugh.

“And Sigrid tells me you have a dress that needs some work?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll fix that up for you tomorrow too.”  She said and kissed Sadia on the collarbone.

“Thank you.”  Saadia said and gently stroked her face.

“You know I’d marry you in a heartbeat.”  Camilla said whimsically, with more than a hint of yearning.

“Then perhaps you should not be thinking of marrying Faendal…?”  Saadia said, concerned that Camilla was going to commit herself for a man she did not truly love.

But Camilla scoffed and then laughed outright.

“You do not know how this world works do you?”  She asked, “Not everyone has all the options of the world laid out before them like you do.”  Camilla said with affection, stroking Saadia’s cheek.  “Faendal is the absolute best of the choices I have.  And he is a good man; he will make me very happy… provided he will have me when he finds out about me.”  She fretted.  “And I do love him.”  She declared, “We can love many people in this life.  Sometimes the love is powerful but fleeting, or subdued but long lasting…”

“Or powerful and long lasting.”  Saadia noted.

“Ah yes.”  Camilla nodded, “And it can also be a love that’s filled with sex, or a love that’s filled with comfort, or a love that’s filled with fire…”

“Or love that’s filled with all of that.”  Saadia countered and Camilla laughed again.

“You’re speaking of a very rare love that most people will never know.”  Camilla said, “People are always so unhappy with their loves because it does not have everything.  But people are just people – they cannot give you everything.”  Camilla was a wise woman, “I could sit around in Riverwood hoping that the perfect person would come and give me a love that’s everything… I could scorn the love I have, a love that’s pure and comforting and loyal and honest.”  She smiled warmly as she thought of Faendal, “Or I could grab hold of that love with both hands and nurture it, help it grow, and be happy with a man who loves me completely... and I believe…as I am.”  She realised.  “I think… I think he’ll be okay with how I am.”  She said softly. 

“Perhaps that is what great love is.”  Saadia was moved by Camilla’s words.

“It is.”  Camilla answered, “Sure, my pulse doesn’t race as it does with the mighty warriors…”  She laughed at herself, “But who wants a racing pulse forever?  I have a calm steady pulse and sureness when I look at Faendal.”  She said, “I want that sureness; that security.  More than anything… I want to be loved for who I am.”

“I wish you all the happiness in the world Camilla.”

“I know you do, my friend.”  Camilla kissed her gently, their lips brushing against each other sweetly.  “But I do have to get back before someone finds out…”  She said, “Lucan gets up fairly early to prepare the store for trade.”  She explained. 

“I understand, it’s alright.”  Saadia said.

“I suppose you’ll leave soon.”

“In a day or two.”  Saadia said and stifled a yawn.  She hadn’t had a full night of sleep since the last time she’d been in Riverwood.

“Will I see you again?”

“I’ll be back in Riverwood again.”  Saadia stretched out, “Whether this happens again or not is entirely up to you.”  She added and Camilla gave her a wicked grin and settled into her arms.

“I’m still not ready for marriage yet…”  Camilla obviously hoped to experience this one last time, “give it a few months.”  She chuckled.  “Maybe next time I’ll get to sleep in your arms for longer.”  She whispered hopefully. 

“That’d be nice.”  Saadia agreed, wondering where she’d get the deathbell from in Riverwood. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow with that dress.”  Camilla whispered before she got up and got dressed, heading out the door with only a few words of goodnight. 

Saadia fell asleep and didn’t wake until midday the next day.

 

***

 

“Thanks for not waking me.”  Saadia said to Lydia as she sat down for a meal at the inn.  She was still tired and yawning.

“I suspected you might be tired after your… activities last night.”  Lydia said in a flat tone. 

“Activities…?”

“It’s my job to know everything that happens with you, my Thane.”  Lydia answered, “No one will harm you my thane.”  She said fiercely.  “And no one will hear from me what you do either.”  She added, “Long life to you, my Thane.” 

“Thanks… I guess…”  Saadia said feeling uncomfortable.  “Did you hear…?”

“Yes.”  Lydia answered, “Several people in the inn heard it too.”  Lydia continued, “But after verifying that you were safe and in no danger, I guarded your door so none could interrupt or… snoop.”  She added. 

“So you must be tired today as well.”  Saadia asked.  “Wait, you verified I was safe?”  What Lydia had said caught up with Saadia, “How?”

“After you cried out, I opened the door to come to your aid.  You were too occupied to notice and in no danger, so I closed it and guarded you and your privacy.”  Lydia answered, “And I am trained to not require much sleep; I am trained to protect you and your property, my Thane.”

“You can probably relax a little Lydia.”  Saadia answered, feeling a little uncomfortable, “I want you to be well rested ok?  That’s an order.”

“Yes my Thane.”  She answered, “I live to serve you.” 

Saadia looked at Lydia; a typical Nord, except she didn’t have blond hair, it was brown.  She had large blue eyes, a sweet looking mouth, high cheek bones, pale skin, and a stern expression.  Quite a stunning looking warrior. 

“Alright, I’ve got some things to do today.”  She said, unsure how to take Lydia’s loyalty, “Before I head back to Hadvar’s.”  She looked at Lydia sternly, “I am quite safe, so you can rest in the inn.”

“While I am under your orders, my Thane, my first order comes from the Jarl, and I am honour-bound to obey it above all other orders.”  Lydia answered, “I am to protect you and-”

“My property with your life.”  Saadia droned out the words and sighed. 

“Can you do that from the inn?”

“I’m afraid not, my Thane.”  Lydia answered, “But I can do it from a further distance if you wish.”

“A much further distance.”  Saadia answered, “You can get all up close and personal again when we’re back on the road, ok?”

“Yes my Thane.”  Lydia answered. 

Saadia got up and paid the inn keeper for the food before heading outside. 

“You’re nothing but trouble.”  Sven muttered as she walked past him, on her way to the Riverwood Trader.

“And don’t you forget it.”  Saadia answered, her mind already on Whiterun.

She’d decided that she would join the Companions.

This was to be her home; she could buy a house here… she should put down roots and gain friends… family… permanency. 

Safety.

 

***

 

She was cresting a hill, on her way back to Whiterun when a man on a horse stopped in her path, several other people behind him, all staring at Saadia and Lydia.

“Saadia?”  He asked and she looked at Lydia, both of them not knowing what this was all about, before stepping forward.

“Yes.”  Saadia answered. 

“I got a message for you from Sven.”  He spat and an arrow shot by a man behind him, aimed for her head, came singing through the air. 

Saadia ducked away as another arrow was let loose, but she was only made aware of it by a loud thwack as it hit Lydia’s shield; the proud woman was standing between Saadia and the men.

Hired thugs from Sven.

“Call yourself Nords?”  Lydia asked venomously as she unsheathed her sword. 

“You think 2 women, alone on a deserted road can beat the 8 of us?”  The bandit chief asked with a dirty grin, his teeth blackened, his scarred face leering.  “We’ll beat you down and rape you before slitting your throats.”  He told them. 

“You are speaking to the Thane of Whiterun.”  Lydia said dismissively, “Dragonborn and friend to the Jarl.”  She looked down her nose at them, “I will not let you lay a finger on her.”  Lydia roared and charged at the bandits, leaving Saadia stunned by her words; her loyalty and vitriolic venom towards those that would harm her was impressive. 

But her shock lasted only a moment before she was beside Lydia, her warhammer held high, ready to swing it at these fool’s heads.

In less than a minute it was over, with one final –

“I YIELD!  I CANNOT BEST YOU!”  Followed by the crack of his skull, the battle was won. 

Lydia waited, watching the road as Saadia looted the bodies, muttering darkly about needing to have a long chat to Sven. 

She gave a moody grunt when she saw the dent in her armour.

“Sven will have to answer for this, my Thane.”  Lydia said fiercely.

“Next time I’m in Riverwood-”

“I could have the guards there kill him.”  She said and Saadia stared at her with shock.

“No!”  She answered.

“Imprison him?”

“No I’ll deal with him.”  Saadia said firmly. 

“You are a strong woman, my Thane.”  Lydia said proudly, “Who deals with her own enemies.  I respect that.” 

“Yes…”  Saadia answered, “I deal with my own… fools.”  She shook her head, not wanting to call Sven an enemy just yet.  “Come on, let’s go.”  Saadia said and they continued on to Whiterun.

Saadia was grinning when she ran past the fortifications, the guards nodding respectfully to her rather than eyeing her closely. 

But as soon as she was through the huge gates to the city, she saw the guards arguing with two Redguard men, dressed in the traditional attire of warriors of the Alik’r.  Saadia had read books about them. 

Saadia had seen few of her own people that were full-blooded in her lifetime and she eyed them curiously as they argued with the guards. 

One of them looked over and saw her watching.

“You there!”  He called to her, looking her up and down, “We are looking for someone in Whiterun, and will pay good money for information on her whereabouts.”  He said in a militaristic voice.  He was a stern, proud man.  And very attractive.  But Saadia didn’t know if she trusted him.

“Who are you looking for?”  She asked guardedly.

“A woman.”  He answered, “A foreigner in these lands; Redguard, like us.”  He answered, once again looking her up and down, this time giving her a slight smile before continuing on with the business at hand, “She is most likely not using her true name.”  He advised her, “We are no longer welcome in Whiterun,” He noted looking back at his colleague, still arguing with the guards, “So we will be in Rorikstead if you have any information.”

“Why are you looking for her?”  Saadia asked, narrowing her eyes. 

“That is none of your concern.”  He answered with a smug tone, “All you need to know is that we’re paying.  If that doesn’t interest you, feel free to walk away.”

“I’ll keep your offer in mind.”  Saadia answered slowly.

“I know you’ll make the right decision.”  He said with a cocky smile.  “I’ll see you again.”  His words had a strong undertone of suggestion.

“She can’t hide forever.”  The other man muttered as he came over.

“See you later.”  Saadia nodded to them and headed up the street towards Jorrvaskr.  She knew exactly where she was going right now.

Saadia looked up at the doors to Jorrvaskr and turned to Lydia.

“Can you wait at the Bannered Mare for me?”  She asked giving her some gold for a room.

“My Thane, I can-”

“Wait out here, sleep on the floor, I know.”  Saadia answered, “But you know I’m safe with the Companions?”

“Yes.”  Lydia said reluctantly.

“And I don’t know how long this is going to take.”  She continued, “So I would feel much better if I knew you were eating and sleeping comfortably while you waited for me.”  Saadia finished.

“I can use my own wages for a bed.”  Lydia answered, “I should not eat into your wealth.”

“By the Gods Lydia, take the damned gold.”  Saadia ordered. 

“Yes, my Thane.”  Lydia lowered her proud eyes for a moment, “thank you, my Thane.”

“It’s fine.  Now go.”  Saadia pointed towards the Bannered Mare before turning back to Jorrvaskr.

Farkas was talking with Aela and Skjor when she opened the huge doors.  He excused himself and came to her, smiling, but keeping his actions muted.

“Saadia…”  He looked her up and down, clearly glad to see her, “Come…”  He said, taking her hand and leading her downstairs, away from everyone looking at them. 

She had meant to join the Companions, but she suddenly felt the lack of sleep for the past 7 days catching up with her; she hadn’t slept a whole night in Riverwood, she was either rutting with Camilla or staying up late talking with Hadvar and his family only to get up early in the morning to help around the town with cutting wood or smithing with Alvor.  It had been a peaceful few days, but she was exhausted.  So she let Farkas guide her to wherever he was going.

She hardly noticed that he was guiding her up a corridor, then into his bedroom.

He closed the door behind them and kissed her passionately. 

“Can’t do that in front of the whelps.”  He explained before kissing her again.

“I’m sure they know what’s going on in here.”  Saadia answered.

“I’m sure I don’t care.”  He answered with a lusty grin before he picked her up off the floor and she wrapped her arms and legs around him happily. 

He took her across the room and they tumbled into his big double bed, Saadia on top, stripping off her armour.

Farkas was in simple leather armour today; common for days when he was staying at Jorrvaskr for training or guard duties.  It fit him snuggly and Saadia thought it was almost a shame to take it off him, it looked so good. 

But Farkas would always look best naked. 

She kissed down his body sloppily, her movements almost drunkenly uncoordinated, her hand roughly rubbing his cock through his pants. 

Farkas looked down at her as she struggled and then failed to stifle a yawn.

“You alright?”  He asked and she nodded, biting one of his nipples and making him gasp.  “Playing rough today are we?”  He asked with a grin. 

“Yeah.”  She said, biting his other nipple, her forehead leaning against his chest… and then her cheek was leaning against his chest… and then her whole upper body was leaning on him… and she was still. 

Farkas looked down at her, realising she was asleep and laughed, shaking his head.  He stroked the hair from her face and gently shifted her to a better position, still straddling him, her head on his chest, hearing the rhythm of his heart. 

He felt his cock throbbing for her in his pants and laughed softly again.  He was happy to wait for her.  But he wasn’t happy that she was working herself too hard.  He was silent, as silent as she needed to sleep.  He stared at the ceiling, listening to the sounds of Jorrvaskr around him, alert and ready.

An hour later she started to twitch in her sleep and Farkas looked down at her in concern; she was clearly dreaming about something unpleasant…

-//-

_“AAAAAAAARRRRRRRGGGGHHHHH!!!!!”_

_A hand over her mouth, silencing her… stopping her breath!_

_Panic._

_“BE SILENT SISTER!”  Her eyes ablaze._

_Saadia looked up into her yellow eyes, pain screaming through her body._

_She looked over at the spear sticking out of her shoulder, the hilt in the hand of her sister – her trainer._

_“Focus your mind…”  She said, “spread the pain thin…”_

_Saadia was panting with pain and tears.  Only yesterday she had been playing with the underage children – one of them… happy and free…_

_But then the monthly blooding had begun…_

_And here she was._

_“Either you focus your mind,” Her sister said, twisting the spear, her hand still over Saadia’s mouth, “or you will be deemed useless and put to death.”_

_Saadia nodded slowly, closing her eyes, trying to control the tears, focussing the pain away from the spear… gritting her teeth with the effort._

_And then the whiteness came, fading the image and she was just an underage child again.  Dressed in the simple tunic and pants of all the children_

_Yesterday the 13-year-old brothers had been taken.  And today the girls that had begun their menses this month were being inspected by their father._

_He was looking at Saadia’s favourite sister very closely, checking her teeth, the shape of her head, the length of her nose, the width of her hips…_

_“Yes you are a beauty.”  He said eventually, “You will be taken back to the inner chamber to continue your education, and you will not leave there until you are to be wed.”  He said and a guard – a Shield-maiden – came to take her away._

_Saadia and her favourite sister shared a terrified look before she was gently led away and their father stood before Saadia._

_His lip curled with disgust as he looked at her._

_“Too dark.”  He looked at her, “Hair’s too wiry, nose too thick, waist and hips far too fat.”  He condemned her, “and a hideous mutation in her eyes.  She is disgusting.  Ugly as Oblivion’s darkest pits.”  He declared, “You are of no use to men, so you are to be a Shield-maiden.  Forever a virgin, never desired by another, to protect the mothers and beauties with your life.”  He told her, “It is an honour that I let ugliness like you even live.”  She stared up at him, only 11 winters’ old, not understanding what he was telling her.  “Thank me for my kindness.”_

_“Thank you pa-”_

_“That’s Sir to you.  Ugly beasts are not my daughters.”_

_He moved on to the next child and Saadia looked back at her mother, a proud woman, but she was openly crying; she would be punished for producing an ugly daughter... and that’s not to mention the terror she felt for her sweet child, a girl of soft and tender disposition would never survive the Shield-maiden training._

_Saadia was grabbed by the hair and dragged from the room, thrown down onto the floor and kicked in the head, beaten until unconsciousness embraced her._

_Blackness swirled around her and suddenly she was holding a greatsword, the tip piercing the shoulder of a screaming 12-year-old girl._

_“SILENCE SISTER!”  She roared at the child, putting her hand over the girl’s mouth._

_The pain, fear and sense of having been betrayed in the girl’s eyes as she looked up at Saadia pierced her heart._

-//-

Saadia awoke with a start.

She was shaking, tears on her cheeks.

And Farkas’s strong arms were around her, his hands stroking her face soothingly. 

He was kind enough to say nothing as she pulled herself together.

“Sorry.”  She whispered after a long silence.  “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”  She sat up and looked down at him, he was giving her an understanding look and stroked her face gently.

“I don’t mind.”  He answered, “Had a nice rest.”  He shrugged and sat up.  “Seems like you need more sleep.”  He said, careful not to mention the night terror.  Saadia wondered if she had said anything, or showed any signs that she was dreaming.  She got up and stared at him looking for any signs that he knew what was in her memory; that he knew what her home life had been.  “Have some mead and food.”  He said and went to the table. 

Saadia caught sight of the scar on his back she had felt several times; three long lines scratched diagonally along his back.  It looked like he’d gotten into a fight with a pitchfork. 

“How did you get that scar on your back?”  She asked and he turned to her.  He hesitated and then sighed.

“It was Skjor.”  He answered.  “Don’t piss him off.”  Was all he said in way of explanation before turning back to the food. 

But Saadia didn’t understand how Skjor could have done that to him; it looked more like an animal attack of some sort.  Perhaps he didn’t want to admit that an animal had bested him.  Saadia gave a small smile; Nords and their pride. 

She sat down next to him at the table and ate some bread and cheese, grilled leeks and roasted goat. 

“You’re not going to ask?”  She said finally; wanting to get this issue of the night terrors off her chest.

“It’s not my place to try and see your dreams.”  He answered.  But he turned to look at her, “Besides, I know your home wasn’t a very nice place.”  He added and she realised she must have talked quite a bit in her sleep, “I don’t need to ask anything.  But I’ll listen if you want to tell me.” 

“No.”  Saadia lowered her eyes and Farkas put a hand on her thigh in comfort.  “What was it like growing up here?’  She asked him. 

“Hard.”  He answered simply, “But we were loved.” 

Saadia looked away.

“As was I…”  She replied, “once I proved my worth…”

His hand went to her lower back and she turned to him.

“Fuck me.”  She commanded and he gave her a smutty grin.

“You know I do as I’m told.”  He replied, “My Thane.”  He added meaningfully with a deep amusement.

“Oh no…”  She groaned.  “How did you find out?”

“Gossip travels fast in Skyrim.”  He answered, “You’d best get used to that or get better at hiding your secrets… Dragonborn.”  He added, his eyes twinkling with mirth.

“Shut up and fuck me.”  She answered.

“Yes, my Thane.”  He teased and picked her up in his arms.

She couldn’t believe how strong he was; she would bet that there couldn’t be more than a few people in all of Tamriel who could pick her up like he did…

“Shut up Farkas!”  She said, “Or I’ll tell Lucan about you and Camilla!” 

“Oh…”  He hadn’t expected that and he started laughing.  “He’d never shut up about it!”  Farkas answered.

“I know!”  She answered and he dropped onto the bed, still holding her in his arms.  “He still thanks me for that damned golden claw every time I enter the store.  You know he’d try and get you to marry her.”

“I’m not the marrying kind.”  He replied and shook his head.  “Alright, no more talking about your Thane-ship… Dragonborn.”  He teased.

“Ugh!”  Saadia groaned and rolled her eyes and laid back on the bed, Farkas leaning over her and kissing her deeply, his hand already finding its way into her undergarments. 

He truly was a delight, this man.

 

***

 

In the middle of the night she left Farkas sleeping in his bed to go and explore Jorrvaskr; she would have to talk to Kodlak tomorrow because she’d been sharing Farkas’s bed for several hours now…

She didn’t wander around downstairs; everyone was sleeping down there.  Instead she went upstairs to see the giant firepit in the middle of the room still blazing brightly, the tables around it had been stripped and cleaned, ready for breakfast in a few hours.

And she saw someone sitting off to the side, reading a book; obviously the person on guard duty tonight. 

She decided to go and ask them about the Companions but was stopped short when she saw that it was Vilkas.  He looked up at her and she gave him a smile.  He did not return the smile.

“What is it you want wench?”  He asked sourly. 

“I’m not a wench.”  She answered, “Not that I don’t admire the work they do, I just-”

“From what I can see you do nothing more than share my brother’s bed, so I assumed it was your profession to do so.”  He answered brusquely.  “I apologise for my mistake.”  He looked back down at his book.    
“I do a lot more than just-”

“I’m sure.”  He said without looking up from his book.

“I was made Thane for killing the Dragon that attacked the Western Watchtower.”  She hated bragging, but this was a matter of pride now; he would respect her as a fellow warrior!

“As I heard it Irileth had a lot to do with bringing that beast down, and yet she remains a housecarl.”  He looked up at her, “Perhaps you ply your trade with the Jarl as well?”  He asked politely, “I hear that excellent and well trained wenches are often honoured by their wealthy clients.  As they should be.”  He said as if he had a scholarly interest in her answer and Saadia narrowed her eyes and squared her jaw.  She refused to be reduced to being nothing than her sexual appetites.  That was an important part of her, but it was not the only part of her.  Ordinarily, being mistaken as a wench would be a delight for Saadia; she admired wenches and their skill and dedication to the Dibellan arts – she had a feeling she could learn a lot from them.  But right now, she couldn’t stand to have this haughty man think she was anything other than a mighty warrior, much like himself. 

“I’m Dragonborn.”  She replied.

“Not that you’ve gone to the Greybeards to confirm that.”  He replied, unimpressed.  “Are you scared of what they’ll say?”  He closed his book, keeping a finger in it to mark his page, “Scared they’ll say they made a mistake?”

“No.”  She answered, “I consumed that Dragon’s power.  I know what I am.  I just don’t drop everything to answer a summons-”

“Then you are not very smart.”  Vilkas answered, “The Greybeards are the only people in Skyrim that could teach you anything about what you possibly are.”  He tutted slightly, “Seems like you don’t deserve that power.”

“I don’t have to prove myself to you.”

“Then why are you standing here trying to do just that?”  He asked. 

“You are Farkas’s brother.”  She said simply.  “I-”

“You want me to like you because you are rutting my brother.”  Vilkas opened his book.  “Who my brother beds means nothing to me.  Within a few weeks he’ll have moved onto the next bed-mate and you’ll be forgotten.  I have no need of your friendship in any way.”  He looked back down at his book, “Thank you for the stimulating conversation.”  He said drily. 

“You two couldn’t be more different.”  Saadia said accusatorily and Vilkas snapped his eyes back up to her.

“We’re more alike than you think.”  He said, “Get used to this face dismissing you.”  He looked back down and Saadia turned away from him, her blood practically boiling.  She headed back to the stairs, to go back to Farkas’s room, part of her not wanting to; she didn’t want to give Vilkas the satisfaction of knowing she was going to go and get fucked by Farkas. 

Vilkas looked up at her as she walked away, his pulse slightly faster than usual.  He took a deep breath, her scent lingering on the air…

He snarled slightly at her back and looked back down at his book. 

 

***

 

“They’re at it again.”  Skjor said, leaning back in his chair, one of his feet up on the table, a rabbit haunch in his hand. 

Farkas and Saadia had come up for a late lunch, and she was relieved to not see Vilkas anywhere.  But almost immediately a fistfight had broken out.

“That’s Athis.”  Farkas said pointing out one of the fighters, “A Dark Elf with the heart of a Nord.”  He explained, “And Njada Stonearm there isn’t too friendly to Elves… given our history with them.”  He finished. 

“What history?”  She asked.

“I don’t know.”  Farkas shrugged, “Some ancient battles.”  He sat down to eat while, “It was so long ago, why do we still care?”  He grabbed a chicken leg and some apples.  Saadia sat beside him and started to pile some food on a plate and eat, while everyone crowded around the fight and Skjor got up to yell at them.

“Come on now, watch the footwork!”  He yelled.  Skjor was a grizzly old man.  He must have seen about 50 summers and one of his eyes was white with injury, his head balding but his hair still long down his back, held back with a leather strip.  He had scars all over him, a rough attitude and a gruff voice. 

Saadia found him intimidating; she could see why Farkas didn’t like to get him angry.  She had seen the look in his eyes when he had talked about the scar on his back – the scar that Skjor had obviously left on him; now that she’d seen Skjor up close, she could believe he’d scarred Farkas like that. 

She looked around the room and saw Aela, in her usual armour, barely covering her body, but huge shoulder plates and greaves.  It made no sense, but it was what she chose to wear, so Saadia didn’t judge it.  Aela’s eyes were on Skjor as he taught the fighters.

“Watch the blades!”  He called out to Njada; Athis always had a hidden dagger.  “He’s giving you opening girl – strike when the shoulder turns!” 

The fight ended with Njada knocking Athis out cold, Skjor clapping her on the back, before returning to the table.

“Nothing like settling a difference in the old way - a little blood always helps disagreements.”  He said to Saadia as he sat down, “Hope you’ve got the stomach for it outsider.”  He challenged.

“Hope you have the stomach for me.”  Saadia responded and Skjor gave her an appreciative look before laughing. 

“Where’d you find her Farkas?  I like her already!” 

“She found us Skjor.”  Farkas answered simply and Skjor seemed to accept that. 

“You do have Ysgramor’s strength boy.”  He said fondly and Farkas gave a happy smile in reply.  “Pulling in woman like this…”

“Do you want to meet Kodlak?”  Farkas asked Saadia quietly.

“I do.”  She said looking around the great hall.  It looked different during the day, without Vilkas brooding over it. 

“I won’t go with you.”  He said, “He’s downstairs in his sitting room.”  Farkas informed her, “That’s where he always is at this time of day.”

“You’ll be here when I get back?”

“Always.”  He answered and then seemed to realise what he said and laughed, “I meant, I’m almost always at Jorrvaskr.”  He corrected and she laughed too, believing that he hadn’t meant to imply what he had implied by his first response.  He wasn’t that kind of person.  Thankfully, because she wasn’t that kind of person either. 

Always, forever – marriage… these things were for other people.  Not her. 

“Alright, I’ll go down and talk to him.”  She said and stood up.  She noticed that everyone was watching her.  Some obviously, others more subtly. 

But she ignored them all and headed downstairs again.

She wasn’t sure of which way to go, but the living area was deserted, so she simply wandered around looking for Kodlak.

And then she heard voices, and knew she was close; someone was talking with him.

“But I still hear the call of the blood.”  She heard an anguished voice, clearly struggling, in pain, but under control.

It was Vilkas.

“We all do.”  A wizened, kindly voice, firm in its authority, “It is our burden to bear.  But we can overcome.” 

Saadia didn’t want to eavesdrop so she made her way towards the speakers with no attempt at hiding her presence.

“Well you have my brother and I, obviously.”  Vilkas said, Saadia’s ears perked up; what was this about Farkas?  “But I don't know if Aela and Skjor will go along with this quite so easily.”  He warned, obviously getting himself even more under control; the moment of weakness, of admitting to his struggle, was gone. 

Saadia could see them now, Vilkas and an old man with snowy white hair tumbling down his shoulders with long plaits amongst its length, a full greyed beard, a warm, scarred face and sharp eyes.  He was past his prime, but obviously still able to swing his sword; and he was proud of that too, she could tell by his countenance.  But there was a humbleness about him too. 

“Leave that to me.”  The old man said to Vilkas.  “A stranger comes to our hall.”  He turned and looked at her and suddenly a look of wonder came to his eyes; he looked as if he had seen her before.

“Kodlak?”  She asked softly.

“Kodlak Whitemane.”  He answered in the affirmative. 

“I…”  She looked at Vilkas momentarily to see his hostile eyes upon her and she smiled slightly, knowing this would spite him.  She turned her eyes back to Kodlak, “I would like to join the Companions.”  She said firmly. 

“Would you now?”  He seemed somehow amused by this; pleased even.  He motioned for her to step forward, “Here, let me have a look at you.”  Saadia stepped forward and he peered up from his seat into her eyes.  She felt utterly naked before him, and transfixed by his wise eyes.  “Hm.”  He considered and Vilkas did an almost silent snort of derision; it seemed like Kodlak might reject her… “Yes, perhaps.”  He said finally and Vilkas turned his face to them in shock and denial.  “You have a certain strength of spirit.”  He told her, his eyes warm and welcoming.  She couldn’t help but smile at him, to feel his warmth. 

“Master, you're not truly considering accepting her?”  Vilkas asked incredulously and Saadia turned her eyes to him, a satisfied, smug grin on her face.

“I am nobody's master, Vilkas.”  He corrected and Vilkas looked down, accepting the correction without a word, “And last I checked, we had some empty beds in Jorrvaskr for those with a fire burning in their hearts.”  He said turning back to Saadia and giving her that warm smile again.  It felt almost like… no, but she could think that way… but still the feeling of warmth crept through her again.  She liked the old man. 

“I apologise.”  Vilkas said, humbled.  And Saadia was surprised to hear in his voice the true depth of his regret for offending Kodlak; he truly meant his apology.  “But perhaps this isn't the time for a new member.”  He tried to deny her access to the Companions again, “I've never even heard of this outsider until a few days ago.” 

“Is your objection because she shares your brother’s bed?” Kodlak asked astutely and Vilkas looked down, ashamed to be caught in the truth of his objection.  “If that were the case, I should not have admitted Ria.”  He said gently and Vilkas looked up at him.  Saadia caught the silent conversation between them; Vilkas had bedded Ria it seemed.

“You’re right as always.”  Vilkas answered.  “But nonetheless, nothing is known of this woman going back just a few days.  Where she came from, who she is, who her family is… and what made her leave where she came from?”  His eyes narrowed as he looked at her; Saadia could tell he really wanted to know the answers to these questions. 

“Vilkas,” Kodlak said soothingly, “Sometimes the famous come to us.  And sometimes men and women come to us to seek their fame.”  He looked back at Saadia, “It makes no difference.  What matters is their heart.”  He looked into her eyes again, “Her heart.” 

“And her arm.”  Vilkas noted sceptically, implying she could not fight well enough to join the Companions.  Kodlak gave Vilkas a strange look, and Saadia had a feeling that Kodlak understood Vilkas better than anyone else, perhaps even better than Vilkas did.  Kodlak nodded slowly as if understanding something and smiled knowingly. 

“Of course.”  Kodlak agreed with him and turned to Saadia once again.  “How are you in a battle, girl?”  He asked her.

“I can handle myself.”  She answered honestly and Kodlak’s eyes twinkled with mirth; he enjoyed the way she had answered. 

“That may be so.”  He said, his tone indicating that he believed her.  “This is Vilkas.  But I’m sure you know that.”  He said, again understanding more than either of them had said.  “He will test you.”  He said, obviously to appease Vilkas.  Vilkas gave a vindicated grin and stood up, his eyes on Saadia.  “Take her out to the courtyard Vilkas and test the strength of her arm.”  He said and took a sip of water. 

“Aye.”  Vilkas answered, “Follow me, my Thane.”  He challenged dismissively.

But Saadia held her tongue and simply followed him; she knew not to give in to the taunts of her enemies.  Her sister had trained her well. 

As they headed through Jorrvaskr, they gathered an audience; everyone keen to see what she could do.  Vilkas led her to the courtyard at the back of the huge building, the sun shining down on them, a crowd formed around them, some sitting at the outside tables, all watching with real interest.  Farkas was leaning against one of the columns that supported the roof over the outside tables, his arms crossed, a grin on his face. 

He had never seen Saadia fight; but he had no worries about a person who had brought down a Dragon.  And he knew his brother to be an excellent fighter.  Farkas was looking forward to this fight. 

“The old man said to have a look at you.”  Vilkas said so that everyone could hear it.  “So let’s do that.”  He grinned almost sadistically; he was looking forward to denying her access to the Companions once and for all.  “Let’s fight.”

“Sure you can take it?”  Saadia asked as she unsheathed her warhammer.

“Don’t worry about me, my Thane.”  He answered and the audience responded with laughter and cheers and jeers. 

Saadia saw Farkas from the corner of her eye, amused but shaking his head; he was expecting her to win this… That surprised her. 

Vilkas drew his greatsword and they stood facing each other, waiting to see who would swing first.

“I cannot test the strength of your arm if you will not swing at me.”  He mocked.  Saadia had wanted to have him make the first move, but she decided to get this over and done with; to shame him in front of everyone. 

She lunged, her warhammer held high, and he sidestepped, as expected.  But her move had never been to hit him high, she dropped and swung her warhammer at his knees.  But he jumped over it and looked down at her with an unimpressed expression.

“You are going to have to do better than that Dragonborn.”  He mocked again.  She knew he was trying to anger her.  To throw her off her game.  And with shockingly quick speed he brought his Sword crashing down on her.  She got her hammer up to block him just in time.

“He’s quick.”  She said to herself as she rolled away and got to her feet. 

They faced off, both lunging at each other, him swinging, her blocking, then her swinging, and him blocking, their weapons pressed against each other, neither willing to give an inch, each pressing their full weight into it until they were nearly nose to nose. 

So Saadia punched him, hard in the face.  Once, twice.  He ducked the third, rolled away and spun to swing his sword at her feet.  She jumped over his swinging sword and swung her hammer down into his shoulder.  He grunted and rolled away again, getting to his feet and lunging at her, hitting her armoured side with his sword.  But she turned and stepped closer to him, rolling her body along the length of his sword until she was close enough to elbow him in the face. 

In response he brought his two handed sword up in one hand and swung it at her head, causing gasps from the audience – that was a kill shot.  She ducked, spun around and hit him in the stomach with her warhammer.  He staggered backwards, but was not stopped, their weapons clashed and locked again and neither of them gave ground, but this time Vilkas was ready for her punch.

So instead she spun her warhammer, sending both weaponed flying.  And then she punched him in the face when he was distracted by the fact that she’d unarmed both of them.  He punched her back and she took the hard blow and laughed, tasting blood in her mouth.  Vilkas reached for a one handed sword on the table and he tossed it to her, taking another one. 

She nodded and they began again. 

Hard fast jabs and blocks, neither able to gain the advantage for some time, everyone watching was utterly transfixed.  Until finally Saadia caught his blade with her blade by flicking her wrist she flicked his blade away.  In the next move she brought her sword towards his throat, stopping just short of the kill shot.

And then she felt a sharp jab in her ribs, near the armpit hole of her armour. 

They stood still, facing each other, her with a sword to his throat, him with a dagger to her chest. 

“Sneaky.”  She said.

“Never underestimate the importance of getting the job done.”  He answered. 

They pushed away from each other, normally they would stop, allowing Vilkas to get a weapon again, but Saadia didn’t.  She hit him in the face with the hilt of her sword, and followed through with an elbow before he had chance to respond.  He grabbed her arms, his head spinning from the force of her repeated blows.  She had been trained by her sister: go for the skull, particularly the face, particularly the eyes – and don’t stop until they stop moving. 

“Sneaky.”  He returned.

“Don’t underestimate how good it’ll feel to beat you.”  She answered kneeing him in the gut.  Vilkas was only wearing his leather armour, so her knee did mildly wind him; but not nearly as much as her hammer had, so he was fine again almost instantly, his eyes on her, a predatory glean in them now.  She had been pulling her punches when it was with her hammer, but she wasn’t doing that with her fists and knees.  He wanted more of that – no punches pulled. 

He held out his empty hands and she dropped the sword. 

Hand to hand it was then, she agreed silently.

They rushed at each other, Vilkas punching her in the face, Saadia returning the punches brutally, blocking his next punch and then kicking him in the side.  She punched out again and he ducked, but she was punching again; faster than him. 

He crash tackled her to the ground with all of his force, sending them skidding along in the dirt.  And then he straddled her, punching her in the ribs and then face. 

She roared in fury and kneed his arse from behind, pushing him off balance momentarily; just long enough for her to roll him and get on top of him, punching his face repeatedly while she straddled him. He grabbed one of her fists and twisted it violently, nearly ripping her shoulder out of her socket.  But she did not cry out – she expected pain in battle.  Instead she punched him in the throat, and he coughed violently and let her hand go.  Pushing her chest hard so she rocked backwards. 

He pushed her again while he caught his breath and grabbed her by the throat, slamming her into the ground, choking her.  She punched his face hard and he let go, raised his fist to punch her again, but she head-butted him.

He rolled off her, dazed and she stumbled to her feet, covered in dirt and blood, she could hear everyone around her commenting and cheering. 

Vilkas jumped up and she punched him in the face again, but he growled loudly and grabbed her by the throat, lifting her feet off the ground, choking her again.  Saadia grabbed his hand, trying to scratch it away from her throat, utterly stunned by his strength – he was lifting her whole body with his one arm.  An amber glean came over his usually sky blue eyes and she thought he might actually want to kill her. 

“VILKAS!”  Aela sounded alarmed as she got up from the table, both Skjor and Farkas also stepping forward.

But Saadia, gripping his wrist, lifted herself up and wrapped her legs around his arm, twisting herself, even as his strong hand kept hold of her throat.  And she kicked him in the face. 

Repeatedly.

And he let go.  She fell to the floor and instead of getting time to gasp for air, which would have also giving him time to get over his spinning head from the concussion, she kicked him in the kneecaps, painfully hard.  He went down on one knee.  Saadia jumped up and grabbed the sword on the floor, left where she had dropped and brought it down towards the back of Vilkas’s neck.

She stopped, with the blade pressed against his skin, drawing a pinprick of blood.

“You lose.”  She croaked, now finally getting her breath. 

And in the utter silence that followed he turned and looked up at her, the sword still pressed on his neck, his eyes burning amber and growled, a deep, low, guttural growl.  But Saadia didn’t feel a sense of threat from it… it felt predatory… but not like he wanted to kill her… it was almost like a call to her… She didn’t understand-

“Vilkas.”  Said a soft, wise voice; Kodlak. 

Vilkas’s eyes instantly went to the old man.

“I have it under control.”  He said, his voice strained but calm.  “She was never in any danger.”  He said as he closed his eyes.  When he opened them they were simply blue again, “You win.”  He said and she raised the sword from his throat.

He got up and looked around at everyone, none of them knew what to make of that fight; most people got beaten down very quickly by the inner circle, so no one had ever seen them challenged like this.  Or beaten.  He stood up, apparently completely unfazed by any of his injuries.

“You can handle yourself.” He said, looking her up and down.  “You might just make it.” 

“Alright everyone.”  Aela said, dispersing the crowd, “We have a lot of clients who need help, Skjor and I are handing out work inside.” 

“But for now you’re still a whelp to us.”  Vilkas said as Aela ushered everyone back inside.  Kodlak and Farkas remaining behind, “New blood.”  He said, and Aela looked back at those words, a thoughtful expression on her face.  Vilkas picked up his sword while Aela closed the door.  “So you do what we tell you.”  He said and tossed his greatsword at her.  She caught the heavy weapon with ease, but he refused to show how impressed he was with her.  “Go take my sword up to Eorlund at the Sky Forge to have it sharpened.”  He ordered, wiping blood off his face, “And be careful, it's probably worth more than you are.”  He said before going over to Kodlak, the 2 of them going inside, talking softly.

She glared after him.  Wanting to throw his greatsword on the ground.

Farkas came over to her.

“Well you’re in.”  He said.  “Do what you’re thinking of doing and he wins.”  He added.

Saadia looked at Farkas with surprise.

“You know me too well.”  She muttered.

“I don’t know you anywhere near enough.”  He countered.  “Listen, I can’t show you favouritism-”

“I know how it goes Farkas,” she answered, “Anyway, I don’t want anyone thinking I slept my way to the top.  So you better not show me any favouritism.” 

“Yes Ma’am.”  He said with a lusty smile.

“What’s that look for?”  She laughed.

“I like you giving me orders!”  He said, “It does something to me.”  He looked around to make sure they were alone and then pulled her into his arms, “Wanna take a swim in the river, get that blood off… I know a very private bend in the river where no one will see a thing we do…”  He said suggestively. 

“Tempting.”  Saadia answered, “But I have a sword to deliver.”  She answered, stepping back from his embrace, “But later?”

“Later.”  He agreed, looking at her with unmitigated lust.  She turned to go, “He likes you, you know.”  She turned back to him.

“Who Kodlak?”

“Well yeah, the old man obviously likes you.  He wouldn’t have given you a shot at Vilkas if he didn’t.”  Farkas answered. 

“You saying he would have picked you or Aela to test me if he didn’t like me?”

“I’m saying he wouldn’t have let you take the test at all.”  Farkas didn’t understand; he didn’t realise that there was so much tension between his brother and his lover that Saadia had thought he meant that Kodlak had given her the gift of punching Vilkas’s lights out because he liked her. 

“Oh…”

“I mean my brother.”

“Vilkas?”  Saadia asked incredulously.

“He’s the smartest one of us in everything except people.”  Farkas said, “He’s not good with people.” 

“Oh.”  Saadia furrowed her brow in confusion.  “That much is obvious.”  She said eventually.

“I loved our father… but Vilkas had a lot of issues with him… I think it’s messed him up a bit, you know?”  He said, “I don’t think he wanted this life.  I think he wanted to be a farmer, or a father…”  He shrugged, “But he’s the best fighter I know, because he’s smart.”

“And I beat him.”

“Well I guess you’re the best now, aren’t you?”  Farkas said with a grin.  “I’ll talk to him.”

“You don’t have to…”

“He won’t listen to me.  He never does.  But I owe it to him.  And you.”  He said.

“I’ll keep in mind what you said.”  Saadia answered, going over every interaction she’d had with Vilkas in her mind.  The first time they’d met he’d been very civil, he seemed to have grown colder to her over time.  Maybe Farkas was right.  Maybe he was just so bad at making friends that he pushed away people that he liked.  Maybe his father, being in the Companions so young and for so long, all of this – had messed him up.

She thought about the amber glean in his eyes…. And that low rumbling growl that had almost felt like an invitation.

An invitation to what?

She didn’t understand any of this.

She was growing a little tired of not understanding things.

She sighed.

“Better not keep Eorlund waiting.”  She said.

“Forge is that way.”  Farkas pointed towards some stairs cut into the rock behind Jorrvaskr.

“I’ll see you later on.”  She said and gave him a sexy wink.  He gave a small groan of appreciation and headed inside to get work. 

She had read about the Sky Forge; it was even older than Jorrvaskr.  No one knew who built it, but it’s why the Companions chose to build Jorrvaskr here. 

She was wondering if she’d ever get to see it, and now she was getting that chance.

She climbed up the stairs, wiping blood from her face.

The stairs led up to a large open space, an ancient forge built open to the sky, an older man, with long grey hair and huge burly arms worked the forge.  He was vital, strong, muscled and intent on his work.

She watched him for a while, interested in the workings of the huge, ancient forge, its heat source looked like it was molten lava, and the man was sweating profusely from the heat of the forge, even though he wore very little clothing, and the day was not a warm day.  Saadia could feel the heat of the forge from where she stood at the top of the stairs. 

The ancient carvings in the structure looked almost Nord… but the forge was said to predate Nord settlement of this land.  Perhaps this Forge and other relics like it, were the reason the Nords claimed Skyrim as their ancestral homeland. 

Eventually she sighed and went up to him. 

He had alert eyes, a trim beard and a rugged, handsome face.

“What brings you here?’  He asked in a friendly tone.  Saadia tried not to look down at his impressively toned torso, a light spray of hair covering his chest, trailing down to his groin – which Saadia was definitely not looking at.  For an older man, he was incredibly attractive. 

“Vilkas sent me with his sword.”  She said, sounding every bit like she didn’t want to do this task.  She tried to sound more enthusiastic, but it was almost impossible. 

“I’m guessing you’re the newcomer then.”  He said in a kind tone. 

“Does Vilkas always send newcomers on his little errands?”  She asked, unimpressed.

“Oh don’t worry about it!”  He was so kindly, “They were all whelps once.  They just might not like to talk about it.”  He noted with a glint of humour in his eye.  “And don’t always just do what you’re told.”  He advised, “No one rules anybody in the Companions.” 

“So you’re a Companion then?”

“No.”  He answered, “But none of them know how to work a forge properly, and I’m honoured to do the work for them.”  He said with real pride.  “My name is Eorlund Gray-Mane.  I work the Sky Forge.  Best steel in Skyrim.  In all of Tamriel.”  He said it in a matter-of-fact tone, with no hint of bragging.

“Saadia.”  She introduced herself, “And I’m the whelp.” They both laughed.  “But really, someone has to be in charge here?”

“Well I’m not sure how they’ve managed, but they have.  No leaders since Ysgramor himself.  Kodlak is the Harbinger, and he’s a sort of advisor for the whole group.  But every man is his own – every woman her own.  No one is in charge of anyone.  Skill and experience gain you respect and esteem, and the others will listen to you then.”  He seemed to enjoy his role of filling in the whelps with all these details. 

“It looks like they just follow the orders of the Circle.”  She said and Eorlund shrugged.

“Looks can be deceiving.”  He answered, “I have a favour to ask of you Saadia.”  He said, “I have been working on a shield for Aela, but my wife is in mourning and I need to get back to her soon.  I would be much obliged if you could take this to her?”

“Of course.”  She answered, wondering what his wife was mourning and if she could help in any way.  She made herself not ask and instead said her farewells, heading inside to the living quarters.  She saw the cleaner, quietly sweeping while all around her the Companions talked about what work they would be doing over the next few days.  She wondered what stories that woman could tell.

“Hello.”  She said to the cleaner and she looked up, surprised to be addressed.

“Oh I’m just a cleaner dear.”  She said, “It’s one of the Companions you’ll be wanting to talk to.”  She went back to her work and Saadia wondered if she would talk later on, outside of Jorrvaskr, maybe with a tankard of ale in her hand.

“Just looking for Aela?”  She asked the cleaner and she pointed down the corridor without looking back up. 

Saadia walked down the corridor, listening for Aela’s voice; otherwise she’d have to knock on doors.

“Why?”  She heard Aela’s voice; she sounded angered.  There was a low voice speaking in return, but Saadia wanted to finish this errand so she could get back to Farkas.  So she knocked on the door and Aela flung it open, her cheeks flushed with emotion.

“What is it?”  She asked.  Saadia saw Skjor in the room, he turned to have his back to her, he was looking down at the floor, obviously not happy for the interruption.  “Ysgramor himself wouldn’t have the patience to deal with all the rabble around here!”  She said angrily. 

Saadia held up the shield.

“I have your shield.”  She said and Aela’s angry expression instantly lifted.

“Ah good!”  She said taking the shield, “I’ve been waiting for this.”  She looked Saadia up and down.  “You fought well against Vilkas.”  She noted, “And the old man thinks you have heart… I remember you – the one who didn’t fight the giant.” She tipped her head to the side as if considering her. 

“You gave Vilkas quite the thrashing.”  Skjor said, “Though we won’t let him hear us say that.”  He chuckled and Aela laughed too.  Saadia tried not to laugh, but she couldn’t help but let out a slight laugh.  It had been good to best him. 

“He nearly lost control.”  Aela noted and Skjor nodded, “But you still beat him.”  She said to Saadia.  “What have you got to say for yourself.”

“I did what needed to be done.”  Saadia answered.

“A woman who lets her actions speak for themselves.”  Aela said, “I knew there was something I liked about you… New blood.”  She said and shared a look with Skjor.  Saadia couldn’t read their expression, but there was a definite silent conversation happening between them.  “Let’s have your fuck-toy show you where you’ll be resting your head.”  Aela said and Skjor scoffed.  “Farkas!”  She called out. 

“Did you call me?”  He asked when he got to the door.

“Of course we did ice-brain.”  She said derogatorily and Saadia felt her like for Aela suddenly drop.  “Show this new blood where the rest of the whelps sleep… unless you want her to share your bed?”  She teased. 

“I sleep where the others sleep.”  Saadia interjected before Farkas had chance to open his mouth. 

“Whatever you want.”  She shrugged, “And ask Vilkas for work when you’re done with Farkas.”  Aela said turning back to Skjor.  Skjor gave Saadia a long looking at before turning away to look at Aela, both of them clearly having other, more important things to talk about.

“Come on.”  Farkas said softly.  He closed the door behind them and gave her a grin.

“Do they always talk to you like that?”  Saadia asked and he shrugged.

“Skjor and Aela like to tease me,” He told her, “But they are good people.”  He reassured her.  “They challenge us to be our best.”  He continued.  But Saadia wasn’t so sure about them; she felt very protective of Farkas.  But he didn’t seem to mind, so she let the topic drop and followed him as he led her down the corridor away from the private bedrooms into a room with several bunks, each with a set of shelves, a lockable chest and a bedside table.  “Are you sure?”  He asked.

“No favouritism.”  She reminded him and he nodded.

“Alright, this is your bed.”  He said, “Athis, Njada,” He pointed out the other juniors, “Ria and Torvar.”  He said, “Tilma the cleaning lady, she’s always kept the place clean.”  He pointed out the door, “And Vignar and his servant Brill hang around too.”  He said.  “Those are the people that sleep here.  Other Companions sleep in their own homes.”  He finished.  “I’ll let you talk to Vilkas then.  He’s in his room, cleaning up.”  Farkas gave her a grin. “Good fighting.”  He complimented her again.  “I’ll be… in my room.”  He said softly and she nodded, unable to keep herself from grinning at him.  “Oh and… I do have a job for you if you want it?”  He asked and she nodded, eager for work.  “We’ve had word of some trouble right here in Whiterun.  I don’t know what it’s about, and that’s not our business.”  He said, “But I need you to go and find this milk-drinker and scare him into submission.  No killing though.”  He added and Saadia nodded. 

“Easy.”

“Here’s the details.”  He said handing her a strip of paper.  “Better say hello to your roommates.”  He said and gave her a wink before leaving.

She walked into the room and looked around.

“I’m still trying to figure out why they let you in in the first place.”  Njada said and turned away from her to continue sharpening her sword.  Ria shook her head at Njada and gave Saadia a big smile.

“I’m Ria.”  She said, and Saadia’s ears perked up; so this was the woman that had actually suffered through bedding Vilkas.  “I used to be the new one around here until you came!”  She sounded excited, “That’s ok, it just means I get to show you the ropes.”  She was kind and friendly, “So if you need anything…?”

“I’ll ask.”  Saadia said.  She noticed Torvar and Athis eyeing her from the other side of the room.  She’d talk to them later.  “I have to go and get work from Vilkas…”

“Oh?”  Ria’s voice broke slightly but she managed to keep her smile.

“Is there something wrong?”  Saadia asked.

“Yeah she fucked him.”  Njada guffawed.

“Shut up!”  Ria answered, “It was just a one off thing.”  She said to Saadia hurriedly.

“That’s why they let her in!”  Njada continued.

“That’s not-”

“Come to think of it…”  Njada said getting up and looking at Saadia, “That must be why they let you in.”  She stood toe to toe with Saadia.

“I can assure you I didn’t fuck Vilkas.”  Saadia answered with a straight face, “Except for in that fight you all saw.” 

There was a moment of silence before they all broke out into laughter, Njada clapping her on the back. 

“Ya fucked both brothers then!”  She roared with laughter. 

Saadia knew that she had to own her… what would she call it?  Relationship?  No… affair?  She supposed so… she knew she would have to own her affair with Farkas in order to be accepted here.  There was no hiding it, and she had to prove she wasn’t here because of it. 

“I suppose I did.”  She answered with a huge grin, everyone laughing again. 

“So which one is better?”  Njada asked the two of them.  “You’re both gonna have to bed the other brother and report back!” 

“I don’t think so.”  Saadia said and pulled a face.

“Why not, they look the same.”  Njada asked, “and Ria said Vilkas was alright in the sack.”

“He was very, very good.”  Ria said breathlessly, nodding her head.  “He keeps it under wraps, but he’s wild… so much fire in him.” 

“She’s swooning!”  Torvar teased and Ria shot him a dirty look. 

“And Farkas?”  Njada asked Saadia.

“I’m sure you could just ask anyone in town.”  She replied, setting everyone off laughing except Njada.

“Yeah but I’m asking you.”  She said and Saadia paused, thinking how best to reply.

“Good enough for me to be a repeat offender.”  Saadia acknowledged and Njada chuckled at that. 

“So are you two together?”

“Well I’m here and not in his quarters aren’t I?”  Saadia answered. 

“So no favouritism then?”

“No favouritism.”  Saadia assured them.  “So where’s Vilkas’s room, I need to get work from him.”  She said and Athis pointed her in the right direction. 

She walked down the corridor, as expected, his room was opposite Farkas’s room.  The door to Farkas’s room was closed, but Vilkas’s door was open.  She looked in to see him in only his pants, a bowl of bloodied water on the table, a cloth in his hand, cleaning his well-muscled torso.  He wasn’t as big as Farkas, but he sure was close to it. 

“What do you want whelp?”  He asked without turning around.

“How did you know-?”

“I could smell you.”  He answered and turned to her, the cloth in his hand, rubbing his neck clean. 

“Aela told me to get work from you…”  She said, her voice much softer than she had intended.  Once again she saw his eyes look her up and down, measuring her.  His full lips pouted in thought for a moment.  It was remarkable how identical he was with his brother.  Looking at him like this, water dripping down his torso, his face, almost exactly the same as Farkas’s, his hair shorter, but still long and unkempt like Farkas’s… She could see why Ria would want to bed him.  On face value; he was damned attractive.  But she couldn’t believe Ria got past his personality to actually do it.  Because his personality was far from attractive.  He put the cloth in the bowl and walked over to some strips of paper on his desk.  He picked one up and turned back to her.

“The Bannered Mare has some skeevers in its basement, and Hulda, the owner, has asked us to clear them out for her.”  He handed her the strip of paper with a small triumphant smile.

“Skeevers.”  Saadia answered unimpressed. 

“Wouldn’t want you to get hurt now, would we, whelp?”  He asked, “My brother would miss his bed warmer.”

“I beat you.”  She answered and his eyes hardened, all mirth leaving them.  “So maybe you should give me the job you were going to do.”  She said smugly, “wouldn’t want you to get hurt now would we, old timer.”  She said this, knowing that the brothers were only 7 years older than her. 

“Fine, if you want to do my work for me, and get yourself killed…” He said as he picked up a piece of paper, “Then be my guest.”  He handed it to her, “The Jarl has asked us to clear out a cave of well-armed bandits that have been attacking travelling caravans.  There’s at least a dozen of them and they’ve killed all the guards sent to get rid of them, so now he’s calling us in.”

Saadia took the piece of paper from him and handed back the skeever job to him.

“Wouldn’t want you to be doing nothing, now would we?”  She asked and patted his hand, “It’s good for you to still feel useful.”  His nostrils flared but he said nothing and she gave him a sweet smile before turning to leave.

“You best tell my brother that it was your idea to take that job.”  He said, “I don’t want him thinking I sent you to your death.” 

Saadia turned back to look at him.

“I won’t be dying today.”  She answered and Vilkas shook his head.

“I won’t lose my brother over you, or anyone.  You tell him.”  He ordered.

“Is that what all of this is about?”  Saadia asked incredulously, “You’re afraid I’ll steal your brother away?”

“You think too highly of yourself.”  Vilkas said, “If you die and it looks like my fault, of course he will blame me.  But alive… alive, he will grow bored of you, and you will be forgotten like every other person he’s bedded.” 

“You know, you started off so nicely.”  She said, “When I met you in the inn, I thought I might like you; that there was a fascinating man underneath your quietness… but you’re actually just a bitter old arsehole, jealous of his brother’s sexual prowess.” 

“Think what you want.  You just tell him it was your idea to commit suicide with that job.”  Vilkas said and turned away.  “Goodbye.  Dovahkiin.”  He dismissed her and started to wash himself again.  Hearing that word from his lips stopped her dead in her tracks.  He chuckled, “You don’t know that word.”  He said, obviously feeling superior.

“I do know it.”  She said, “I just wondered how you came to know it.”

“Everyone who knows the legend of the Dragonborn knows that word.”  He answered, “It is what you claim to be in the Dragon tongue.”  He said.  “Dovahkiin literally means Dragonborn… of course in some translations it means one who is born to kill Dragonkind…”  He shrugged, “take your pick.” 

“Dovahkiin is a Dragon word?”  She asked.  Jarl Balgruuf had told her that that Dovahkiin meant Dragonborn, but not that it was a word in the Dragon language. 

“You know nothing about who you are claiming to be.”  He said, shaking his head.  “And you refuse to see the Greybeards because you are too proud to be summoned, what I would give to-” He stopped, then looked at her, “To be allowed a meeting with the Greybeards.”  He finished.  “What every Nord would give to be Dragonborn.”  He said, “And you treat it like a burden, rather than the gift from the Gods that it is.” 

“It’s not that I don’t respect it…”  She said softly, Vilkas shaking his head and looking away.  “It’s just…”  She swallowed, “What d’you care…?”  She said bitterly, “You don’t care why I’m reluctant to become the most famous person in all of Skyrim do you?”  She asked, “You wanted to know where I came from, and I why I left?”  She asked and he looked at her, his eyes burning with questions.  “Ask your brother about where I left.”  She said, “And just know, that if they find me… they’ll kill me, in the most painful and degrading way they can imagine.  I just want to be invisible…”  Her voice dropped to a whisper and Vilkas crossed the room to stand before her.

“You supposedly killed a Dragon.”  He said firmly to her.  “And you think whoever these people are stand a chance against you?”  They stared at each other for a moment, Saadia having no idea what to say to him, or how to reply to the comfort he had just given her.  “You sell yourself short Dovahkiin.”  He said thoughtfully, his voice almost a whisper. 

“Which is it Vilkas?”  She asked, close to tears with anger, fear and thoughts of her father, her mother, her siblings… “Do I think too highly of myself, or not highly enough?”

“I’m still figuring that out.”  He answered, his voice the kindest it had been since she had first met him.  He searched her face for a moment and sighed.  “Get out of here whelp.”  His voice returned to its usual tone as he dismissed her once again, “You got some bandits to kill.  And no fucking my brother till the job’s done.”  He closed the door on her without another word and she turned to see Farkas’s closed door. 

She looked down at the jobs she had to do and decided to get them done before falling into bed with Farkas; she had some rage to get out of her system.

And she was heading to the Bannered Mare first.  To get Lydia… and to kill some damned skeevers.

 

***

 

“Did you have to kill that blind guy?”  Saadia asked Lydia as the roasted their pheasant over their campfire.  They had camped just in site of the western watchtower, guarding the surrounding area while the architect was on site for the night, making plans for how to rebuild and fortify the tower.  The Jarl was paying good money for them to be there.  The guards stayed in the tower; a last line of defence for the architect, and they stayed outside, watching for any attacks. 

“He came at you with a weapon, my Thane.”  Lydia answered with no remorse. 

“Yes but I dodged him fairly easily.”  Saadia said, “Although, he was quite good with the sword to be honest.”  She admitted, “I could have beaten him and-”

“And what my Thane?”  Lydia asked, “Left him alone in that cave without all of his bandit friends?”  She posited, “with only the skeevers nipping at his heels for company, until finally one day they overcome him and eat him alive while he screams in agony.”  Saadia stared at her in silence, “No, a quick death is best.”  She said firmly.

“Well when you put it like that…”  Saadia answered.

“No matter what way I put it, I’m right.  When it comes to your safety my Thane; anyone attempting to harm you, will be killed.” 

“I’m glad I’ve got you around Lydia.”  Saadia said finally, “It was hard getting used to the idea, but you’re quite-”

“Good at my job.”  Lydia said with a grin and Saadia chuckled.

“And fun to have around too.”   

She had been running jobs for the Companions for days, she’d cleared out dangerous animal dens, tracked down escaped criminals, found an old fairly heirloom for a man named Amren, intimidated a few people into doing something (she had no idea what – it wasn’t her job to know that – it was just her job to get them to do whatever it was they were supposed to do), and she’d also done some guard work, like this work they were doing tonight. 

Happily, her gold was slowly creeping up; she’d be able to buy ‘Breezehome’ – the house for sale in Whiterun, fairly soon.  She was so stacked up with things to sell that she knew she’d either have to go back to Riverwood to get the good prices there, or risk the shops in Whiterun very soon.  She was worried that these city traders wouldn’t be half as generous with the gold as the Lucan and Alvor were. 

But she had received word from both Camilla and Hadvar and all was quiet and safe there and Camilla had received the glowing mushrooms Saadia had sent to her.  She really didn’t have a reason to head out there just yet. 

She should get to know the shop-keeps in Whiterun she decided. 

Tomorrow, after this job was done and they’d accompanied the architect back to Whiterun. 

 

***

 

The first store she visited was the blacksmith right near the gates to the city: Warmaiden’s.  It was run by a married couple, Ulfberth War-Bear, possibly an actual living bear-man, with a soft kind demeanour but the look of a man who could crush you in one hand.  And Adrianne Avenicci, a determined woman with a lot to prove, living in the shadow of Eorlund Gray-Mane and the Sky Forge, her father was the Steward up in Dragonsreach.

Despite her lack of faith in herself, she was actually a gifted blacksmith and Saadia not only sold many things to her (the price was only a little lower than what Alvor would have offered her), but she also bought herself a new steel warhammer, much stronger and lighter than her old one.  Adrianne also carefully, lovingly hammed the dent out of Saadia’s armour, for a very reasonable price. 

Next she went up to The Drunken Huntsman, run by a Wood Elf named Elrindir, who sighed and told her about getting shot in the arse with an arrow by his drunken brother one night when he was drunk – and that was how they’d come up with the name of the shop.  His prices were very reasonable, and he even bought a bunch of berries she’d picked.  She spent a lot of time talking with him, trading stories and laughing while Lydia eyed the cliental; there was also an exclusive tavern there, with a few seats for some people who liked a quieter atmosphere than the Bannered Mare could offer.

And now Saadia finally had enough money to buy her home and she hadn’t even gotten her latest reward money for doing the jobs for the Companions. 

Nonetheless, she stopped herself from running up to Proventus and immediately buying the house, and instead dropped into Belethor’s General Goods. 

“Come on in!”  He called as she opened the door, “Everything’s for sale!”  He declared, “And I mean everything!  Got any family members you’d like to sell?”  His voice was loud and brash.  Saadia and Lydia shared a look before Saadia stepped up to the counter.

“I have some things I’d like to sell.”

“Of course!  I’d buy your sister if you have one.”  He gave a big grin and Saadia narrowed her eyes in complete dislike for this sleazy little man.  “Ah, I’m just kidding!”  He laughed loudly.  “And I won’t ask where any of this stuff came from.”  He gave her a wink.  She sold him all but one of the mammoth’s tusks she’d found in the last bandit’s cave and made a 1000 gold pieces.  Her head was giddy with excitement!

“One last thing…”  Saadia said as they finished up their transaction, “I need you to stop overpricing your glowing mushrooms.”  She said firmly.  Belethor stared at her for a moment.

“Those babies are hard to come by…”

“They’re in many caves in Skyrim.”  She answered simply.  “Very easy to find.”

“But not many people come out of those caves alive.”  Belethor answered. 

“You will not charge Camilla Valerius more than 10 gold per mushroom, am I making myself clear?”  Saadia put on her best intimidating voice and Belethor narrowed his eyes at her, trying to decide if he should be scared of her or not.

“She got to you too huh?”  Belethor said, “She is beautiful.”  He said, “I used to sell them for 100 gold, but she talked me down to 50…”  He sighed.  “Alright, anything for a pretty face like yours.”  He said.  “And if you need anything else, do come back.”  He said with a sleazy smile.

“I will.”  Saadia answered and left the store, feeling like she needed a-

“I feel like I need a bath.”  Lydia said and shuddered.

“Agreed.”  Saadia said and they shared a grimace and then a smile.  “Alright, Arcadia’s Cauldron.”  She said looking at the last store on her list of shops to visit today.  “Get rid of these potions I’ve got stacking up in my satchel.” 

“You look rather pale…”  Acadia said as soon as Saadia walked in the door.

“Pale is never a word I have ever heard used to describe me before…”  Saadia answered.

“Could be Ataxia.”  Acadia continued, “Sit down, let me brew you a potion for that.  only 5 gold coins for the cure.”  She said as she busied herself, “Although if you don’t have the money, I’ll heal you for free… a healer never chooses profit over saving a life.”  She added, “By the 8, if I had 5 gold coins for every case of Ataxia or Rockjoint I’ve cured in this town, well… well I’d retire!”  She laughed, “And live rich!”  She sighed, “Oh but the urge to help is too strong.”  She said, “I’ll never retire.”  She smiled as she got out a mortar and pestle and started grinding up herbs.  Saadia had been about to stop her, but she watched in interest, realising that all the mushrooms and berries she’d been selling might actually have some medicinal use.  She was fascinated by this.

“I have some potions to sell you actually.”  Saadia said and Acadia nodded.

“Of course dear!”  She said, “but first your cure.”  She looked up at Lydia.  “Oh dear… classic Rockjoint symptoms.”  She said sitting Lydia down.  Lydia had been about to protest, but she saw Saadia hold up her hand and instead allowed the woman to sit her down and fuss over her. 

It took an hour to get out of the store, but they were apparently cured when they finally did get out. 

Saadia looked around the market place and decided to walk around and talk to the people. 

She spoke to a beautiful and ambitious young woman named Ysolda.  She needed a mammoth tusk to please the Khajiit traders so she could learn from them so she would become a good enough trader to be able to run the Bannered Mare; she intended on buying it from Hulda, who had declared many times, to anyone who would listen, that she was ready to retire.  Saadia thought about the mammoth tusk she was keeping as a souvenir and gave it to the woman.  Saadia wanted it for looking pretty, this woman wanted it to get her life on track.  They talked for a long time about the Khajiit, how Ysolda liked and trusted them but that most people in Skyrim, and indeed Tamriel, considered them to be thieves.  So mistrusted were they, that there wasn’t a city in the whole of Skyrim that would allow them past their gates.  That’s why Saadia had seen them camped out on the outskirts of the fortifications.  She decided that when she had time, she would spend some more time with the Khajiit. 

She met a man named Jon who told her about every store in town when she asked him.  A wealth of knowledge, and very friendly, asked her to grab a mead with him later on, and she agreed to do so without setting any particular time or date for that. 

She bought some food and asked the seller, Carlotta Valentia how she was going.

“Oh, life’s hard enough without all these men propositioning me.”  She answered, polishing an apple and putting it down.

“Someone giving you trouble?”  Saadia asked.

“It’s that bard Mikael!”  She blurted out, obviously tired of holding it in, “he’s bent on getting me into bed.  And it doesn’t matter how many times I tell him no!  I am all my daughter has now.  She comes first!”  Carlotta said, “But he won’t stop.  He boasts that he’ll conquer me like any true Nord conquers a wild beast.”  Saadia saw Lydia pull a disgusted face. 

“I’ll have a talk to him.”  Saadia said, remembering the book she’d seen written by him; ‘A Gentleman’s Guide to Skyrim.’

“You’d do that for me?”  She sounded surprised, “I’d really appreciate it.  But I don’t think anything will get him to stop – his skull’s too thick.” 

“He hasn’t met me yet.”  Saadia answered with a wicked grin.  “My warhammer loves cracking skulls.”

Carlotta eyed the steel warhammer, brand new from Warmaiden’s and sighed.

“Well I hope that works, friend.”  She said and turned to a customer. 

“Do you get to the Cloud District very often?”  A man walking past stopped to ask her politely.  And then he looked her up and down, “What am I saying, of course you don’t.”

“The Cloud District?”  Saadia asked.

“Dragonsreach is located in the Cloud District.”  The man answered and gave her the sort of smile one might give a simpleton you felt sorry for.  “My name is Nazeem, perhaps one day I can introduce you to the Jarl himself, or our very first Thane!”  He said with a warm, condescending smile.  “Other than the Jarl’s brother of course, but he doesn’t count!”

“This is the Thane of Whiterun.”  Lydia answered coldly.  And Nazeem stuttered slightly but Saadia just laughed and shook her head.  “And the Jarl’s brother does indeed count.” 

“It’s okay friend.”  Saadia said, “Nice to meet you Nazeem.”  She shook his hand and he smiled, still embarrassed by his mistake, But Saadia was in a good mood and she walked on up the stairs to see the large tree in the park.

A woman in a hooded robe was sitting under it, her head lowered.

“It’s a shame isn’t it?”  She asked as Saadia approached. 

“What is?”  Saadia asked and the woman looked back at the sad tree, it must have once been very beautiful, but it was waning now.

“This is the Gildergreen.”  She looked back at the tree, “It was planted as a seedling in the early years of Whiterun.”  Saadia looked at the old tree with wonder, it’s beauty more evident now, “Disciples of Kynareth could sense something holy in it, and travelled far to hear the winds of the Goddess in its branches.  They built the temple.”  She pointed to the temple just off the park circle, “Of course, not as many pilgrims these days.”  She said looking back at it.  “The tree is dying, and a big dead tree isn’t very inspiring if you’re coming to worship the divine winds and rains.”  She said sadly, “Kynareth gives life, and we need a living tree to be her symbol.”

“Is there any way to revive the tree?”  Saadia asked and heard Lydia clear her throat beside her. 

“Trees like this never really die.”  The priestess, Danica, said, “They only slumber.   Perhaps if we had some sap from the parent tree, we could wake up the child.”  She mused, “But even if you could get to the Eldergleam, you couldn't tap it. Not with any normal metal.”

“The Eldergleam?”  Saadia asked and Lydia folded her hands in front of her.

“The Eldergleam is an old tree.”  Danica answered, “Very old.   It's the oldest living thing in Skyrim.  Maybe all of Tamriel.”  She said to illustrate just how old it was, “They say it was a seedling when the first people were arriving from Atmora, thousands of years ago.”  Saadia looked at Lydia, but Lydia was looking down, her lips pursed, “Our tree here in the city was grown from a cutting of that tree.  You can still feel the glory of the mother tree through it."  Her eyes went to Lydia, and she recognised a woman in prayer, she smiled warmly at Lydia and turned her eyes back to Saadia.  “The sap of the Eldergleam is precious.”  Danica continued, “It can restore barren fields or bring life to rocks.  I can use it to repair the Gildergreen, so we can worship properly again.”

“But you can’t tap the Eldergleam for sap?”  Saadia asked. 

“Eldergleam is older than metal, from a time before Humans or Elves.”  Danica answered, “To even affect it, you have to tap into the old magic.”  She hesitated and then whispered; “You'll have to deal with the Hagravens.”  She told Saadia, “I've heard about a weapon they've made for sacrificing Spriggans.  It's called ‘Nettlebane.’”  She nodded slowly, “That will do it… The hags terrify me, or I would have gone after it myself.”

“Alright I’ll get Nettlebane for you.”  She said and again looked at Lydia, who was smiling knowingly. 

“Your spirit is strong.”  Danica said gratefully, “Kynareth's winds will guide your path.  It's held in a Hagraven nest called Orphan Rock.”  She added “Do you have a map?  I could mark it out for you.”

“That would be helpful!”  Saadia said and pulled out her map for Danica to mark. 

Saadia began to walk back down to the market place, meaning to continue her exploration of the town when a girl sitting under the tree caught her attention.

“Lady… could you spare a coin?”  She asked softly.

“Sure.”  Saadia gave her 5 gold coins and the girl smiled beautifully, incredibly excited.

“Oh thank you!  Divines bless your kind heart!”  She said.

“Why are you begging?”  Saadia asked.

“It’s… it’s what Brenuin said I should do.”  The girl said, “He’s the one of the few people that’s been nice to me since I got here.”  She looked down.  “My Name’s Lucia, if you wanted to know.” 

“I’m Saadia, and this is my friend Lydia.”  Saadia said gently, “Where are your family?”

“Papa ran off when I was a baby, and mama…”  She looked down, “She died.  “My aunt and uncle took over our farm and threw me out.  They said I wasn’t good for anything.  I wound up here, and I don’t know what to do.  I just miss mama so much.”  She said sadly.  “Anyway, I better go, I’m gonna go buy some food with this.  Thank you again!”  She said and ran off towards the market stalls. 

Saadia followed, heading that way anyway, and was glad to see the shopkeepers taking pity on her, giving her very good prices for food and drink. 

The girl ran back to the park to eat, and Saadia found it hard not to think about her as she browsed the stalls. 

So Saadia went over to a small weapons and jewellery stand; she recognised the woman as a woman she’d seen with Eorlund Gray-Mane, she thought her name might be Fraila.  Saadia wanted to see what kind of things Eorlund had made for this stall. 

“How are you today?”  Saadia asked as she looked at the items for sale.

“All I can think about is my son, Thorald.  They say he’s dead – but I know he’s alive.  My son is alive.”  She said, a haunted look in her eyes.  Saadia realised that this was Eorlund’s wife, and she was in mourning for their son.  Her heart dropped as she felt a deep well of sympathy for the old woman.  “It’s those Battle-Borns!  They’re in with the Imperials.  They know my son is alive and they lie to my face!” 

“How do you know they’re lying?”  Saadia asked.

“Please, it’s not wise to discuss it here.”  She whispered, “If you really want to help, meet me at my home.” 

She followed Fraila to her home, leaving Lydia on the doorstep she went in with the old woman.  But the minute she got through the door a huge blond man rushed forward and put a sword to her throat, fear in his eyes.

“Mother, what’s the meaning of this?”  He asked loudly.  “Who have you brought into our home?”

“Avulstein!  Put that sword down!”  Fraila ordered, “She’s here to help us find Thorald!”

“How do we know she’s not spying for the Battle-Borns?”  He asked, leaning in to look at her face closely for any sign of treachery.

“I don’t even know the Battle-Borns…”  Saadia said, wondering what she’d just walked in on “I’m still very new here, but I do know your father, Eorlund.”  She said, “I’m a Companion.”

He stared at her, trying to decide whether he should believe her or not.

“I can’t take any more of this!”  Fraila said.

“We can’t trust anyone, who knows what they’ll do if they find me here!”  He looked back as his mother.

“Please, no weapons!”  Fraila pleaded, “Let’s just talk!” 

And Saadia grabbed his wrist, twisted it and disarmed him.

He turned to look at her with terror on his face.

“You see?”  He asked his mother. 

But Saadia calmly went to the table and sat down, putting the sword in front of her and motioning for them to join her.

“Let’s talk.”  She said. 

“She looks like the sort of person who can help us.”  Fraila said to her son with a glimmer of hope, as she sat down.  “Let’s talk.”  Saadia repeated.

“Alright mother.”  Avulstein said and eyed Saadia suspiciously, “So you’re here to help?”

“I’m here to listen.”  Saadia answered.

Fifteen minutes later she came out of the house looking tired and sighed loudly as Lydia joined her. 

“They asked for your help?”  Lydia asked and Saadia nodded, “And you said you would help them?”  Sadia again nodded.  “When the great bards write the story of your life, my Thane,” Lydia said, “It will be called the story of the woman who couldn’t say no.”  Lydia joked, but Saadia groaned – Lydia was right.  “But in your case, my Thane, that is nothing to be ashamed of.”  She said with a supportive smile, “You are a woman of the people.” 

“You make it sound a lot more noble than it is.”  Saadia said and Lydia gave her a questioning look, “They want me to break into someone’s home.”

“Oh…”  Lydia said, “You can’t…”

“I know.”  Saadia sighed, “I’ll have to figure out another way to get the evidence they want.  It seems like I walked into a mini version of Skyrim’s civil war here.”  She sighed again, “I’m done for exploring Whiterun today, time for house buying!”  She declared happily and Lydia grinned in excitement for her Thane, her friend.  “And then I am going to sleep in my own home!”  She said happily, “Probably in a bed roll, but I don’t care!”  She said; she had no money for furniture yet, but that wasn’t the point!

 

***

 

Saadia stood on the doorstep of her new home.

Proventus had told her that the cottage behind this one, currently leased by Olava, was also part of the deed for Breezehome, meaning she owned this cottage, and the cottage behind it and all the land that went up to the wall, including a small concrete opening to the sewerage system, for her waste, and a small bowl with a spigot that supplied the city’s fresh water from their advanced piping.  Neither of these amenities had been developed in any way, and both of them were outside of the home; in between her cottage and Olava’s, shared by the two of them.  It was actually quite a big bit of land.  The Jarl had asked her to allow the old woman to continue renting the cottage behind her until she died and Saadia had agreed to these terms.  She now had an income from the rent, Olava had been paying the throne until a new owner could be found, now she would pay Saadia. 

Saadia guessed she would have to talk to Olava about that later. 

For now, she was just too excited.  She put the key into the door of her new home, her heart racing with excitement.

“This is my new home…”  She whispered.

“Congratulations, my Thane.”  Lydia said.

Saadia opened the door and looked in.

The house was completely empty except for a few old crates and chairs, some firewood stacked in the corner, and cobwebs.

There was a place for a firepit, and a set of stairs that led upstairs.

Saadia walked around the cottage, there were no walls downstairs, but she decided that a room could be made under the stairs if she put a wall in.  She pictured a kitchen here, chairs around the firepit, some bookshelves…

She went upstairs and saw that there was still an old bed left with a lockable chest, but no walls to give her bedroom privacy. 

“Putting walls in is going to be expensive.”  Saadia sighed but she grinned and pulled the dress Sigrid had given her out of her satchel.  She folded it and put it in the chest.  “You finally have a home.”  She said to the dress.  She didn’t know if she’d ever wear the dress.  But she would never sell it either.  She took a moment to feel a real sense of peace.  She’d done it.  She’d found a place to be safe.  A home. 

She turned to look at a room that was on the other side of the stairs - it actually had walls and a door.  It was small, but it had a nice small window and enough room for a bed and wardrobe.

“This should be your room Lydia.”  Saadia said and Lydia was stunned.  She had not expected to have her own room.  “I’ll have the Jarl provide some furniture for you immediately.”  She said knowing that if she had to provide the furniture it might take a while, “So that you can get some sleep tonight!”  She grinned and turned around on the spot, imaging how she was going to decorate her home.  It would take her a while to afford it all, but she would make this little cottage her home.

“Tonight you must attend the feast of Ysgramor.”  Lydia reminded her and Saadia sighed.

“Ok so not much sleep tonight for either of us.”  She corrected.  “Still, I think I have time before the feast to get Farkas and test out that bed.”  Saadia said with a wicked grin.

“I’ll wait downstairs then, my Thane.”  Lydia replied and Saadia laughed. 

“Agreed.”  She looked around again, “And then tomorrow, I have some things to do for the good people of Whiterun.” 

There was a knock on the door and Saadia looked down the stairs towards the front door in surprise.  She turned to look at Lydia who shrugged.

“Word travels fast in Skyrim, my Thane.”  She said and Saadia went down the stairs to get the front door. 

Ria was standing on the front door with a huge smile and a potted plant – a glowing mushroom.  Behind her was Farkas with a huge grin and Aela, looking curious. 

“How exciting!”  Ria said as she came in and handed the potted plant to Saadia, “I’m trying to make it a tradition.”  She explained, “Giving gifts to people who move into a new home.” 

“Why in all the planes of Oblivion would she need a potted plant, girl?”  Aela asked, shaking her head.  “She hasn’t even got a table to put it on!”

“Ysolda said she heard from Belethor that Saadia liked glowing mushrooms.”  Ria answered.

Saadia looked up at Farkas who was grinning, amused by this whole exchange.  Aela rolled her eyes and looked around the empty house.

“You shouldn’t believe everything you hear.”  Aela answered, “It sure is a big empty house.”  She said to Saadia.

“I still have to get furniture.”  Saadia answered and looked down at the plant.  “I had no idea you could grow these in pots… I thought they needed to be in their caves?”

“Oh no!”  Ria said, “It’s really easy, just put it in a dark corner and it’ll light up the room.  And give it lots of water.”  She said, “I can teach you how to look after it?”  She said eagerly. 

“That’d be great.”  Saadia answered, thinking of Camilla.  “Thank you for this.”

“I guess Ysolda was right.”  Aela said, unimpressed.

But Ria was happily giving Saadia a big hug.

“Oh I’m so excited for you having your own place.”  Ria said giddily, “Can I look upstairs?”

“Sure.”  Saadia looked at Aela and Farkas, “Have a look around.”  Ria made a noise of delight and ran up the stairs, Lydia watching her with amusement. 

“Is it true that you own Olava’s cottage as well?”  Aela asked.

“Yes.”  Saadia answered.

“You must allow the old woman to-”

“The Jarl already asked me to let her stay.”  Saadia answered, “I’ve agreed.” 

“Good.”  Aela seemed relieved, “I have heard some strange things about the old woman… some say she can predict your future… see your death… and make it happen with a blink of her eye.” 

“You don’t believe such nonsense?”  Lydia asked sceptically.

“No.”  Aela answered, “But I do believe she’s an old woman alone in this world.”  She said, “And I do believe it can be hard to… be alone.” 

“And there’s no harm in playing it safe when it comes to that stuff?”  Farkas teased and she narrowed her eyes at him.

“Thinking isn’t your strong point ice-brain; I’d advise against you trying it.”  Aela retorted.

“No insults under my roof.”  Saadia said suddenly.  And then she realised that she could actually make those kinds of rules here; it was her home! 

Aela rolled her eyes and sighed.

“Favouritism is at work here it seems.”  She said and gave them both a look before turning to the door, “Congratulations on your home, new blood.”  She said as she turned to leave.

“She’s not new blood.”  Farkas said softly, Aela turning to lock eyes with him.

“She is the newest member of the Companions.”  Ria said as she skipped down the stairs happily.  “I’m not the whelp any-” She stopped, realising something, “Hey, why did you never call me new blood?”  She asked, and then another realisation came over her and she gasped excitedly, “You’re thinking of initiating her to the Circle eventually?”  She asked Aela.

“Perhaps.”  Aela said.

“No.”  Farkas said firmly, his jaw set aggressively against Aela, much to Saadia’s surprise. 

“She beat Vilkas in a fight… even he called her new blood.”  Aela answered.

“That was an accident.”  Farkas said, “You know he doesn’t favour initiating anyone else into the Circle.”  Farkas said through gritted teeth. 

“Lucky for Saadia it’s not only up to you two.”  Aela answered.

“The old man’s against it too.”  Farkas answered.

“Kodlak denies the gifts that-”

“Enough!”  Farkas warned, “Your tongue is getting lose; you’re saying things in front of people that-”

“Alright.”  Aela answered.  “We’ll discuss it further in the Underforge.” 

“That we will Shield-sister.”  Farkas answered. 

Aela turned to a very confused Saadia.

“Congratulations Shield-sister.”  She said almost warmly, “Really.”  She gave a smile, “I think you’ll make this place a fine home.”  She looked away for a moment, as if in thought.  “I’ve been meaning to buy myself a new bed.”  She said, “You could have my old one if you need it.” 

“Thank you.”  Saadia smiled warmly in reply.

“And I know Skjor has a bookshelf he has no need of.”  Aela looked around the room again.  “And we have too many tables in that outside area.  One would make a fine kitchen table.”  She pointed to the area Saadia was thinking of making a kitchen.  She turned and gave Saadia a real smile, “We’ll have this place liveable in no time Shield-sister.”  She told her.  “I must go now.  Ria.”  She motioned for Ria to follow her and then eyed Lydia, “You’d better come too.”  She said rolling her eyes at Farkas. 

“My Thane.”  Lydia excused herself and left with Aela, standing guard at the door, outside.  Ria gave Saadia another hug, reassured her that she’d be back to tell her about the glowing mushrooms, and left too. 

“I’m sorry about that.”  Farkas said softly, obviously worried she would be upset with him.

“I understand; you do what your brother wants.  Most of the time.”  She answered. 

“It’s more than that.”  Farkas said, “I wouldn’t care if he did want you in the Circle, I’m still not sure I would.” 

Saadia looked at him with real surprise.

“I thought you wanted me to rise up through the Companions?”

“I do.”  He answered, “This Circle is just…”

“Special?”  She asked, “So you don’t want me in it?”  She tried to understand, “Or… is it because we’re… lovers?”  She asked.

“No.”  He shook his head.  “The Circle is... hard.”  He didn’t know how else to talk about this.  “And you cannot know how hard, or what type of hard until you are in it.  So you never have the chance to know if this is what you really wanted… and there’s no getting out of it.  Ever.  Once you’re in, you’re in it for life.”

“I can handle it.”  Saadia answered and Farkas groaned and shook his head.

“I know you can handle anything.”  He said, “But I don’t think I want to see you go through this…”  He whispered and touched her cheek, “Those marks on my back?”  He asked, “Skjor gave those to me during my initiation.”  He told her, “I was out of control… and he… he put me in my place.”  Farkas’s words ended up becoming a mumble and Saadia furrowed her brows; she could see he was lost in a painful memory.  “I nearly completely lost myself.”  He whispered, “Nearly went feral…”

“Went feral?”  Saadia asked, utterly perplexed.  Farkas seemed to realise he’d spoken out loud and he gave an uncomfortable laugh. 

“It’s just…”  Farkas hesitated, “A thing we say.  It doesn’t mean anything.”  He said with a numb mouth. 

But Saadia had a feeling that the Circle was hiding something; and now she was just burning to find out what. 

“I want in, Farkas.”  Saadia said firmly and he gave her a sad smile.

“You say that now.   But you might not feel that way once you find out what being in means.”  He said and took her hand, “And once you know… you have to be in… or be dead.” 

“That’s a big secret.”  Saadia said, surprised.

“Yes.”  Farkas answered.  “Hopefully it will change in time.  And the Circle will be… not so hard.”  He said, “But for now… It’s not for you.  You’re the Dragonborn.”  He said simply.  “What’s it that my brother says?  Dov… Dova-something?”

“Dovahkiin.”  Saadia answered.

“You do know the Dragon tongue?”

“Only a few words.”  She answered.  “Two… actually…”  She said and laughed.  Farkas didn’t see the humour in that, instead he was fascinated.

“And what’s the other word?”

“Oh I can’t say that one here.  I’ll knock one of my walls down…”  Saadia answered and Farkas’s eyes lit up. 

“Can you show me another time?”  He asked.

“Of course!”  Saadia answered, “We’ll have to do a job together.”

“Yes.”  Farkas said happily.  And then he put a hand on her waist, “Shall we give your home a Dibellan blessing?”  He asked.

“I hope that means what I think it means…”  She answered with a sexy tone.

“Every Dibellan thing means what you think it means!”  Farkas laughed and pulled her to him roughly.

Saadia loved the way he did that.  But in the back of her mind, even as she kissed him, her thoughts were lingering on the puzzle of the Circle. 


	4. Part 4

That night she went to eat dinner with her shield-siblings at Jorrvaskr. 

It was a feast night – a celebration of Ysgramor and one of his victorious battles.

Whole pigs and pheasants and rabbits and goats and even half a cow were roasting over the firepit, with vegetables cooking in pots or over grills around the outside of the flames.

The doors to the great mead hall were thrown open and the people of the town invited in to dance and drink with the Companions, both new and old members were all there; which meant a lot of very old people telling their favourite battle stories, townsfolk gathered around listening, while the young Companions danced and drank and found wenches to enjoy the talents of. 

The night had begun with Kodlak giving a toast to Ysgramor and the Jarl, who was present, as well as the good townsfolk of Whiterun before downing the whole drink in one gulp.  From that point on it had been a rowdy affair. 

Saadia was seated with Ria, Njada, Athis and Torvar – who was so drunk he could barely keep himself upright.  Lydia stood at a respectful distance, keeping an eye on everything.  On the main table sat the Circle members.  Kodlak in the centre with Vilkas and Skjor next to him, Farkas next to Vilkas of course, and Aela next to Skjor.  Saadia looked up at them, wondering what the big secret was.  Farkas looked down at her, with a big lusty grin on his face.  Everybody noticed, and more than one comment was made about the change in Farkas’s behaviour at this year’s feast; he was not out chasing a bed-mate.  His eyes were on Saadia. 

Less people noticed that Vilkas’s eyes occasionally turned to Saadia, his face stony and distant.  But people also noticed his change of behaviour too; he was even less congenial than usual. 

Saadia realised at this feast just how adored the Companions were, and how honoured.  She also saw how lusted after the Wolf brothers were, as was Aela, but no one thought they stood a chance with her; the whole idea of being with anyone of them seemed to utterly disgust her. 

There had been a lot of feasting, drinking and merry-making.  And halfway through the night Skjor stood up, a tankard of honeyed mead in his hand and everyone quietened down.

“Every year we have a brawling competition,” Skjor declared and everyone cheered, “Last year’s defending champion is Njada Stonearm!”  Njada stood up and held her hands high.  “Now you all know the rules.  2 people fight at a time, until one yields or can no longer stand.  The winner is then challenged by the next fighter and they fight, until one yields or can stand no more.  This continues until there are no challengers left and only one fighter is left standing.  Anyone of adult age can challenge!”  The audience cheered again.  “Are you ready Njada?”

“Ready!”  She yelled, “Who thinks they can take me?”  She challenged as a fighting space was cleared and she left the table to stand in the middle of it. 

At first there were no challengers, but eventually, after a big sip of ale, a farmhand stepped forward to make a name for himself.  He was a big strapping lad and Njada gave him a grin of appreciation before hitting him square in the face. 

Everyone cheered, and Saadia noticed the guards standing around watching, egging each other on; there’d be a lot of challengers she could tell. 

The Jarl sat as a table of honour opposite the Circle, his steward and housecarl on either side of him.  He laughed and clapped and cheered on the fighters.  All around them bets were being made and people were encouraging each other to have a go. 

Several people went up against Njada, and all of them fell under the might of her fists.  But then a chant of ‘Dragonborn’ went up through the crowd.  Saadia looked around and saw that even Jarl Balgruuf was chanting along, Proventus joining in, but Irileth sitting in stony silence, her arms crossed, her eyes warily scanning the crowd for any dangers. 

Saadia shook her head but Skjor stood up.

“When the audience demands it, it must be so!”  He said and motioned for her to get up.  The audience cheered loudly. 

Njada joined in with the cheering.

“C’mon Thane!”  She cried, “I can beat ya.” 

Saadia got up reluctantly and the crowd went wild with excited anticipation; they were going to see the Dragonborn in action. 

Lydia stepped forward, but Saadia waved her off and went to the fighting area, giving a quick glance to first the Jarl’s table and then the Circle’s table; everyone except her seemed excited by the prospect of seeing her fight. 

“I’m not gonna go easy on ya, just cos I like ya whelp.”  Njada declared.

“Please don’t.”  Saadia answered, “In fact, going your hardest is the only slight chance you have of winning this.” 

The crowd erupted and bets were furiously being made, even the Jarl made a wager. 

Njada punched, aiming for Saadia’s face, putting her entire weight into it.  Saadia dodged, jabbing Njada in the side as the woman’s momentum drove her past Saadia.  Njada grunted and rubbed her side as she turned back around to face Saadia.

“If that’s all you’ve got in those fists, I’m surprised you beat Vilkas.”  She declared, the audience watching with bated breath. 

Saadia sighed; she had seen Njada’s technique many times, the woman liked to fight.  It would not be hard to beat her.  Saadia decided to put her down as quickly as she could without shaming her.

She punched out with her right fist, and Njada took the punch to the chin willingly; Njada could take a punch easily.  But in the momentum from the first swing, Saadia brought her left fist swinging up and into Njada’s temple.

She went reeling back, her hand going to her temple and shaking her head before straightening back up.  She threw a punch at Saadia, and she caught Njada’s fist in both of her hands, yanked her forward and brought her knee up into Njada’s face.  Blood exploded everywhere and the crowd cheered loudly. 

Saadia allowed Njada to straighten up and they eyed each other off.  Njada spat out a tooth and a child grabbed it to be sold.  She lashed out at Saadia and Saadia ducked, coming back up with an uppercut right under Njada’s chin, knocking her back onto her arse. 

Njada was dazed but she slowly got to her feet, Saadia watching with a calm countenance. 

Another punching attempt was easily dodged, this time with a punch straight to Njada’s nose, breaking it, more blood splattering everywhere.  Njada reeled, and Saadia punched her again, and again, and the woman went down. 

The audience was on its feet; Njada had been the champion for 3 years running. 

“Who’s next?”  Skjor asked, and a surprising number of people were eager to get up and be punched by the Dragonborn. 

Saadia almost felt bad for them; but they did choose this. 

She had brawled with 16 people, winning each fight easily when Aela cried out.

“Why not Farkas?”  There was a complete silence after that suggestion, and Farkas glared down the table at her.

“It has been many years since a Circle member has been part of this event.”  Kodlak answered. 

“We’ve seen her beat Vilkas,” Aela took a moment to enjoy Vilkas’s glare, “Why not see if she can beat Farkas, who’s easily 10 times stronger than anyone here…?”

There was a moment of silence, Farkas and Saadia’s eyes met, and then the crowd erupted into chants-

“Farkas!  Farkas!  Farkas!” 

Farkas shook his head slowly, but Saadia motioned for him to come.

He glared at Aela who smiled sweetly and then shrugged at him, before he got up, and very reluctantly took his armour off before heading to the fight space.  Vilkas watched him the whole way, an unreadable expression on his face. 

Farkas stood before Saadia, and she raised her fists, the audience hushed.

“I don’t wanna do this.”  He said softly, but everyone heard it, and waited with bated breath for her reply. 

“Why not?”  Saadia challenged.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”  He said, his voice softer still.  You could have heard a pin drop; everyone watched with intensity, Aela leaning forward in her seat; she hadn’t expected it to go down like this.  She’d just expected an excellent and entertaining fight; no one seemed to be Saadia’s match in brawling, but Farkas might be. 

“No favouritism, remember?”  She said and Farkas looked around, aware that everyone was watching, listening.

“Alright.”  He said but then shook his head, “Just go down on the first hit and don’t be so damned proud.”  He told her and she laughed.

“You think I can’t take you?” 

“Honestly?  I don’t know.”  He told her, “But I know I’ll deal you some serious damage either way.” 

“Good.”

“No one’s bested me in a fight for over a decade, and some of them – many of them didn’t walk away...”  He warned.

“No favouritism.”  She said again, “You’ve broken a bone on every other whelp here, why not me?”  She asked, everyone’s eyes going from Saadia to Farkas.  “Why treat me differently?”

There was a moment of silence, everyone literally holding their breath.

“Because you are different... to me…”  He said the words almost silently, but you better believe everyone heard them.  Saadia’s fists dropped, her whole body softening as she stared at him, not sure what she had just heard from him. 

Aela’s jaw dropped; Farkas had basically declared that he loved Saadia in front of everyone, and now they stood staring at each other silently, the whole town of Whiterun watching.  Beside her Skjor scoffed with amusement, Kodlak made no movement – his eyes fixed on Saadia, but Vilkas closed his eyes and looked down momentarily before looking back up at them. 

Saadia couldn’t figure out what to do next, but with the whole town looking at her, she knew she had to decide quickly.

She raised her fists, set her jaw firmly.

“No favouritism.”  She reiterated firmly. 

Farkas let out a deep breath; he’d feared she’d respond in this way.

“Alright.”  He said reluctantly and raised his fists. 

Farkas didn’t move as he honed his sight in on her, everything else in the world melting away.  Saadia was used to fighters moving around a little, bouncing on their toes, things like that.  But Farkas stood still and silent; like a mountain, but a mountain ready to leap on his prey. 

Saadia expected him to fight much like his brother; waiting for her to make the first move.  She was just considering where to hit him; he had an impressively solid body and she wasn’t sure how she’d be able to take him down-

When his fist came hurtling through the air and crashed into her eye socket sending her reeling backwards.

It took everything Saadia had to stay on her feet.  She put a hand to her eye and felt the pain rocket through her head.  She focussed, spreading the pain thin…

“You broke my eye socket.”  She said in surprise and Farkas dropped his fists, his hand reaching out to her in concern, but she stepped back and waved him off.

“Yield.”  He said as she looked up at him; a thick drop of blood was dripping from her eye.  She was crying blood.  The Companions had seen this before.  Last year when a woman name Uthgerd had come to join them.  They had given her a whelp to show the strength of her arm on… she had hit him like this… and his eye had cried blood.  And less than an hour later he had been dead.  Arcadia had said his brain had bled uncontrollably into his skull until it had drowned. 

“No.”  Saadia answered raising her fists.

“YIELD!”  Aela yelled out at her, standing so fast that her chair crashed to the floor behind her; she was terrified that the Dragonborn was about to die because of her stupid suggestion. 

Saadia shook her head to clear it, feeling the damage he’d done.

“I’ll just have to remember that you’re as quick as your brother, even though you’re bigger than him.”  She said, but she was also thinking that their fighting styles were different too. 

Farkas looked up at Kodlak, a tortured fear in his eyes.  But Kodlak nodded.  Skjor and Aela stared at Kodlak in disbelief, Vilkas stood up.

“You can’t-” Vilkas begin.

“She makes her own fate.”  Kodlak said, “Continue the fight.” 

Everyone turned their eyes back to Saadia and Farkas. 

Farkas stared at Kodlak a moment more before turning back to Saadia.

“Please yield.”  He asked.

“You yield.”  She answered. 

“I yield.”  Farkas said loudly.

“I don’t accept!”  Saadia answered just as loudly, “Either I beat you fair and square, or you beat me.”  She moved closer, her head not as clear as it could be, but she was focussed, ready. 

Farkas stared at her for a moment and then raised his fists, even more reluctantly.  Vilkas leaned forward on the table, his eyes wide; he couldn’t believe what was happening. 

“Don’t go easy… milk-drinker.”  Saadia said with a grin.

Farkas punched out at her, not at full strength, but enough to do some damage.  She dodged it and the whole audience let out a breath of relief.  He punched again and she dodged it, this time swinging under him to punch him in the sides, moving around his body until she was punching him in the kidneys as hard as she could.  He turned, unaffected, swinging his fist as he did.  But she ducked, shaking her hands; he was made like solid rock and her knuckles were getting busted up on him. 

She stepped back, forcing him to fully extend his fist for the next punch, and as soon as he did, she grabbed it, and swung herself up so that she could kick him in the face. 

It had been so fast that no one was sure of what they had seen, but Farkas stumbled back, and the whole crowd erupted with cheers; this was going to be a real fight after all. 

Skjor leaned forward in his seat, not quite believing what he’d just seen, and Aela finally took her first breath since screaming at Saadia to yield… maybe she wasn’t going to be killed by her lover… maybe…

Farkas put a hand to his eye, where her foot had landed its hard kick, and looked up at her with surprise, now back on her feet, staring at him, fists raised. 

“Game on Farkas.”  She said and he raised his fists again. 

As expected, he swung first again, and she dodged, and lunged forward, punching him with an uppercut and then, remembering what her half-Khajiit sister had taught her, she flipped back, kicking him with her feet as she did.

She landed not nearly as elegantly as she would have liked but there was a stunned silence nonetheless.

“Haven’t done that in a while.”  She admitted.  Farkas was rubbing his chin and staring at her in amazement. 

But her head was growing thick and fuzzy… like her brain was sitting in a bowl of water, and every time she moved her head, it took her brain a few seconds to catch up with the movement. 

She knew he’d done that serious damage he’d been worried about.  All because she’d taken too long to think about how to defeat him at the beginning of this fight.  She wouldn’t make that mistake again. 

Farkas punched out at her again, both frustrated and glad that he kept missing her; she dodged away again, but this time she went down to her knees and grabbed his ankle, reefing his foot out from under him.

Farkas went crashing to the ground and she took the opportunity to straddle him and punch him in the face repeatedly.

But Farkas roared and pushed her so hard she practically flew off him, skidding on her arse away from him, before flipping up to her feet and running back at him before he got to his feet.  She kicked him square in the nose and everyone heard the break.

He roared again and grabbed her ankle, twisting her so hard her whole body spun in mid-air before dropping to the ground painfully hard.  She turned quickly, getting onto her back and kicked out at him again, but this time he dodged her and was back on his feet.  She flipped up to her feet again; the way her half-Khajiit sister had taught her.  Elsweyr had desserts and jungles - the fighters of the jungles in Elsweyr were very acrobatic in their fighting style, and Saadia had learned some of it, but she was too heavy to be a true master of the skill… you also needed a tail and Khajiit reflexes and musculature to really master it… but she’d learned all she could. 

She came at Farkas again, feinting that she would punch him but instead she jumped up and kicked him in the face again, he reeled back again, blood pouring down his face from his nose and mouth, but he came back at her instantly; much quicker than previously and he swung his fist around, catching her square in the jaw. 

Saadia went down and Farkas stood above her, wiping blood of his face, expecting her to stay down. 

She groaned and felt her jaw; probably broken too…

And she kicked out hard at his ankles, once again sending him to the ground.  She jumped up and stomped her foot down on his throat and he coughed loudly, grabbing her foot.  But she yanked it a way and dropped her knee down into his throat, his hand gripping her leg hard, trying to get her off him.  She punched his face several times before kneeing him hard in the jaw with her other knee.  His hands loosened their grip on her leg.  Either she’d choked him out or she’d knocked him out; she wasn’t sure.  But he was out. 

She stumbled up to her feet, blood pouring in a torrent from her mouth and eye, the swelling on her face already purple and angry looking.  She looked around at the silent audience and then raised a hand in victory.

They broke out into loud cheers.  She looked up at the Jarl who raised his tankard to her.  Then she turned to look at the Circle.  Kodlak and Skjor were clapping and Aela was cheering loudly.  But Vilkas was staring at the unmoving form of his brother.  She looked down at Farkas; he still hadn’t moved.

“Any other challengers?”  Skjor asked.  But no one seemed willing to come forward to take her on after that fight.  “Saadia, you are the champion of this year’s brawling contest!”  Skjor declared and a chant of ‘Dragonborn’ went up again.  But Saadia’s eyes were on Farkas.

“Farkas?”  She said going to him.  “Farkas?”  Her voice became panicked and Vilkas rushed over.  She leaned down to him, shaking him and he made no sound or movement. 

“Move whelp.”  Vilkas said and knelt down beside his brother, putting his hand on his throat, feeling for a pulse.  Saadia moved aside for him and looked down in horror at how beaten up his face looked.  “Come on.”  He said firmly to his brother, “Come on…”  He pulled him up and Farkas finally groaned and Saadia felt a deep well of relief rush through her, tears starting to her eyes.  “Get up.”  Vilkas said, still pulling on Farkas’s shirt.  Saadia got up and stepped back, letting Vilkas get his brother up; it was clear that even when unconscious, Farkas would answer his brother’s call. 

Vilkas got Farkas to his feet and the crowd cheered.  Farkas grinned sloppily, wiping blood off his chin and waved to them, looking like he was almost drunk, still getting his head back.

But for Saadia, everything was going hazy and dim… She was finding it hard to stay on her feet, and then the room seemed to spin out.

“Saadia…”  Farkas said, seeing she was about to go down, but too beaten up to get to her in time.

“By the-” Vilkas swore, but caught her as she lapsed into unconsciousness, her whole body going limp.  Vilkas hoisted her up into his arms and looked down at her, blood dripping ominously from her closed eye.  He looked up at Kodlak.  “It’s like Gjuger.”  He said looking up at Kodlak.  The boy that Uthgerd had killed. 

“No…”  Farkas shook his head, “No…” 

“Get her downstairs.”  Kodlak said and Aela jumped over the table to come to them, she looked down at Saadia’s eye, opening it and looking into the bloody orb.  She turned to Arcadia.

“Bring us some healing herbs.”  She said and Arcadia rushed out to go back to her store and retrieve them.  Lydia came up but Aela pushed her away, “Only Companions go downstairs.”  She said and pointed for Vilkas to take Saadia down.  She grabbed Farkas, guiding the still dizzy man to the door. 

Lydia looked up to the Jarl and he nodded for her to wait here. 

Kodlak stayed at his table, awaiting the herbs from Arcadia, and he turned to Skjor.

“Keep the celebration going.”  He said and Skjor shook his head.

“Sometimes you command the impossible Harbinger.”

“I command no one.”  Kodlak said, “But you know why we must keep the celebration going.”

“They are fearful.”  Skjor agreed.  He stood up and raised his tankard, “A toast to the Dragonborn.”  Everyone silently raised their drinks and took a long sip while Kodlak and Jarl Balgruuf’s eyes met across the room, a silent understanding passing between them.  The Jarl pointed to his personal bard and the woman instantly stepped forward. 

“This is a favourite song of mine.”  She said and everyone turned to her, “A song we all know and love.”  She looked around at them all, “No longer a legend…”  She held them all in the palm of her hand, “Our hero, our hero claims a warrior’s heart,” She began to sing the chorus of the Dragonborn song; it was a long song with verses telling the history of the Dragonborns, and a chorus predicting the coming of the next Dragonborn, “I tell you, I tell you the Dragonborn comes.”  She continued, “With a voice wielding power,” The audience began to slowly join in, as was customary; they would all sing the choruses while the bard would tell the history alone, “Of the ancient Nord art,” More voices joined in, including the deep, clear voice of the Jarl himself, “Believe, believe the Dragonborn comes.  It’s an end to the evil of all Skyrim’s foes,” Kodlak and Skjor watched on in silence.  Skjor’s mind going over the fight in detail; how did that woman put Farkas down when she herself was in the process of dying?  “Beware, beware, the Dragonborn comes, for the darkness has passed,” everyone’s voices rose with hope, “And the legend yet grows.  You’ll know, you’ll know, the Dragonborn’s come.”  The audience fell silent, ready to listen to the history now, their voices would rise again when the chorus was again sung. 

Down in the living quarters Vilkas had carefully laid Saadia on the table in his room, while Aela lit candles and lanterns and cleared space for them to work. 

Farkas took her hand and looked down at her, tears in his eyes, his head still spinning. 

“We have to do it.”  Aela said and the brothers both raised their eyes to her.  “We heal quicker…”  She explained. 

“No.”  Vilkas answered firmly. 

“We have to initiate her Vilkas or she is going to die!”  Aela yelled at him. 

“She will go feral in this weakened state.”  Vilkas roared in response. 

Farkas simply looked down at Saadia and gently stroked her face. 

“She’s strong, she can make it-”

“She’s half dead!”  Vilkas returned.

“We are going to have killed the Dragonborn if we don’t do something!”  Aela answered.  “Do you understand what that means?”  She said, “No one in this town-”

“WE ARE NOT INITIATING HER!”  Vilkas yelled furiously, “NOT NOW, NOT EVER!”  Farkas didn’t even turn to look at the argument, his kept his eyes on Saadia.

“Farkas…”  Saadia whispered.  Vilkas and Aela turned their faces to look at her and Farkas leaned in closer. 

“Saadia.”  He said urgently, kissing her cheek gently. 

“I’ll be fine.”  She croaked.  “I just need to sleep.”  She whispered.

“You can’t sleep, you’ll die.”  Aela answered.

“I heal quickly too.”  She replied and Aela stopped short and looked at Vilkas.

“You heard us?”  Vilkas asked. 

“Farkas…”  She looked at him and he stroked her hair.

“I’m here.”

“Please trust me.”  She said, “I just need to sleep.”

“I trust you with my life Saadia.”  He said honestly.

“Then trust me with mine.”  She answered.  He stared at her for a moment, making up his mind.

“Alright.”  He said, remembering what Kodlak had said; she makes her own fate. 

“Now shut up and let me sleep.”  She said.

Vilkas and Aela shared a look and Vilkas nodded slightly.

“Alright, Aela you need to take Farkas to the Underforge to set his bones before they heal wrong.”  He said and Aela nodded.

“No.”  Farkas said but Saadia squeezed his hand.

“Go.  I’m alright.”  She said, “But be here when I wake up.”

“Always.”  He said and kissed her gently before getting up.  Farkas turned to his brother; the man he trusted most in the world.  “Stay with her.” 

“Of course.” Vilkas answered and Aela led Farkas from the room. 

Vilkas sighed silently and turned to look down at Saadia, apparently asleep.  Instinctively his hand reached out to take hers, to comfort her while she healed.  But he stopped, his hand just centimetres away from hers.  He pulled his hand back slowly.  She might not want to be touched while she was healing. 

Instead he stood there, staring down at her, his face stony, his brows furrowed. 

“Do you think if you stare at her enough, it’ll change?”  Kodlak said as he came in with herbs from Arcadia.  Vilkas looked up at him.  

“What?”  Vilkas didn’t understand.  “Do you have guidance for me Harbinger?”

“Hm?”  Kodlak asked, “Sorry, my mistake.”  Kodlak answered.  Vilkas knew what Kodlak meant went he said something like that; it meant that Vilkas would know when he knew.  It meant that the old man knew something he didn’t know, and Vilkas would have to figure it out on his own. 

“Can’t you just tell me this time?”  Vilkas asked, feeling exhausted.

“Wisdom is never gained that easily.”  Kodlak answered and gently applied some herbs to Saadia’s closed eyes.  “But you often look for answers without.”  Kodlak answered and Vilkas furrowed his brows again, “When the answer is often within.” 

“So… look within myself for the answer.”  Vilkas said, “Of course.  I always do that.”

“Then why are you asking me?”  Kodlak asked gently soothing Saadia’s hair back.  “She’s a remarkable girl, isn’t she?” 

“I suppose.”  Vilkas answered.  “She can fight.”  He admitted, “I wonder where she learn-” But his word was cut short by Saadia gasping, her hand flying to her shoulder, a silent scream on her lips.

“No sister!”  She whimpered and Vilkas’s mouth opened in surprise.  She was dreaming; she was having a nightmare. 

“Shhh.”  Kodlak gently soothed her.

“Why is he saying that?”  She asked, “Where are they taking her-?  The inner chamber?  Why can’t I go with her?” 

“You know why.”  Kodlak said gently, in a soothing voice and she started to weep.  “Shhhh.”  Kodlak said gently.  “We always know why.”  He said meaningfully, “The answer is always within us.”  Vilkas looked down at Saadia, amazed to see her bruising going down.  “She’s been touched by a powerful magic.”  Kodlak said in a serious tone. 

“What kind of magic?”  Vilkas asked.

“A healing magic.”  Kodlak pulled away the herbs.  “It’s not the herbs doing this.”  He said as they watched Saadia’s hand go to her wounds and start to scratch them.  He took her hand and held it, stopping her from scratching too rough in her unconscious state.  “I think she was given Kynareth’s Kiss.”

“I thought that potion was a myth…”

“So were Dragons a few weeks ago.”  Kodlak reminded him.  “She has extremely accelerated healing.” 

“Who would have the skill to brew such a potion, other Kynareth herself?”  Vilkas was still sceptical.

“There are some alchemists around with the skill.”  Kodlak answered, “But not all the ingredients.”  He noted, “No one has seen a yellow mountain flower since the Snow Elves were defeated.” 

“She has powerful friends then.”  Vilkas said.  “Or she gave it to herself?” 

“I don’t think so.”  Kodlak answered, “She sells all the herbs she finds; she has no alchemy in her blood.” 

“Powerful friends then.”  Vilkas looked down at her in thought and then she shook her head.

“I don’t want to sister.”  Saadia said, pleaded.  “I know I must…”  She sounded so defeated; a tone he had never heard from her.  “You will be silent, or you will be killed.”  Her voice was so cold now.  So unlike her usual voice.  “What is wrong with me?  Why does our father make us do these things?”  She whimpered, “Why is he like this?”

“You know why.”  Kodlak answered her again.  “You know the answers.”

“Because I am deficient… I am malformed, ugly and unworthy.”  She answered. 

“You must know yourself above all other things.”  He said meaningfully and then looked back at Vilkas momentarily before turning his attention back to Saadia, “Search for the truth inside of yourself girl.  Don’t listen to what others tell you – know your own truth.”  He whispered to Saadia. 

“My father is evil.”  She almost silently, as if she was afraid to admit it. 

“Like your father.”  Kodlak looked back at Vilkas.

“He wasn’t evil.  He was indifferent.”  Vilkas answered.  “And not even really our father.”  He added. 

“Farkas does not know that.”

“How does he forget?”

“Some people have the lucky ability to block out terrible memories.  It allows them to move on with their lives.  To be happy.”  Kodlak answered.  “And some people cannot block them out, but they can learn from things a lot better, and they can understand things better.”  Vilkas looked away, a sour look on his face again, “Which would you prefer, to be a happy man that remembers nothing of what happened, or you?”  Kodlak asked, “Of course, you can’t answer that until you figure out who you are.  But a wise man is seldom a cheerful man, Vilkas, think on that… Sometimes we must choose to be the fool.”  Kodlak turned back to Saadia and stroked her hair gently, noting that her bruising had gone down again.  “So what are you going to do about it?”

“I…”  Vilkas didn’t know how to answer.

“Kill him.”  Saadia answered and then she shook her head, “I can’t!”  She whispered fearfully, “My brothers they’ll kill me… I’ll never get close enough to him to kill him – there’s too many of them… and my sisters will never forgive me…” 

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”  Kodlak answered and looked back at Vilkas, “I’m sure both of you will.”  He went to the door and smiled, “She’s out of danger.  She’ll be fine.” 

“You better let the townsfolk know.”  Vilkas answered and Kodlak nodded, leaving them alone.  “I wish I knew what he was talking about half the time.”  He said and looked back at Saadia, curious about her past more than ever now.  He looked at the scar over her eyebrow and wondered how she got it; every scar on a warrior’s body had a story. 

She gasped and grabbed his hand.

“Don’t make me do it!”  She sounded horrified and terrified at the same time. 

“You don’t have to do it.”  Vilkas said trying to free his hand from hers.

“I don’t?” 

“No.”  He said finally reefing his hand free as she relaxed, almost smiling.  He looked down at her and took a step away from the table.  The bruising on her face was yellowing now.  “Unbelievable.” 

She sat up suddenly and looked around, a look of fear on her face that eased into a neutral expression. 

“Farkas.”  She said, hardly opening her eyes. 

“Not Farkas.”  He told her, but she didn’t seem to hear him.

“Why am I on a table…?”  She got off and grabbed hold of Vilkas’s shoulder, “I feel dizzy.”  She said and stumbled over to his bed.  She fell into it, rolled onto her side. 

“By the Gods.”  Vilkas muttered with an annoyed tone; now his bed was to be taken too. 

“Come on.”  She asked, “I’m cold, hold me please?”  She sounded almost vulnerable.

“Skyrim gets cold.”  Vilkas answered, “And I’m not Farkas.”

But she was asleep again.  He saw her pull her knees up, wrap her arms around herself and sighed in frustrated acceptance of the situation.  He pulled his blankets and furs up over her and she grabbed his hand again. 

“Thank you.”  She whispered.

“Not Farkas.”  He repeated.

“Vilkas.”  She said softly.  “Thank you.”  He stood bent over her, his hand in hers, staring at the side of her face, unsure what to do next. 

“The old man says she’ll be alright?” 

Vilkas started and reefed his hand out of Saadia’s, straightening up and turning to the door. 

It was Skjor.

“She’s practically already completely healed.”  Vilkas reported and Skjor came over and looked down at her.  He leaned over her and gently brushed her hair off her face. 

“By Ysgramor this one is blessed by the 9.”  He said softly when he saw how healed she was.  Vilkas nodded even though Skjor was looking down at Saadia’s face.  “She is a beauty though, isn’t she?” He asked as he ran a fingertip along her jawline.

“I suppose.”  Vilkas answered. 

“Ah!”  Skjor said as he got up, “If I were 20 years younger I’d be giving Farkas a fight for this one.”  He laughed and clapped Vilkas on the shoulder.  “But she’s a young man’s prize.”

“She’s no one’s prize.”  Vilkas corrected.

“Ah!”  Skjor chuckled, “You’re right, boy!”  He shook his head, “I spoke wrongly and out of habit.  Where I came from, women were always treated as prizes for the men to earn through acts heroism…”  He looked back at Saadia, “I much prefer women as warriors to be honest.  They’re far more interesting and fun.  Like that one there.”  He nodded to Saadia with a sage smile. 

“And Aela.”  Vilkas noted in an even tone. 

“Aela…”  Skjor paused, “She’s a young man’s… partner too.  She’s the same age as this one.”  He noted.

“Her name is Saadia.”  Vilkas said softly, his eyes on the still and silent woman.

“I know boy.”  Skjor said, “But she’s still a whelp.”  He laughed.  “Can’t have anyone thinking she’s made enough of an impression for me to remember her name!”  He clapped Vilkas on the back and headed to the door.

“You know Aela is whoever’s partner she wants to be, provided they want her.”  Vilkas said in a subtle tone and Skjor looked back at him. 

“That woman is made of fire.”  Skjor said softly.  It looked like he was going to say more but he stopped and shook his head, “It’ll be a lucky person that gets to tread this life with her.”  He finished, his eyes downcast and then he looked up and held Vilkas’s eye for a moment, “But you’re a young man Vilkas.  If you meet one made of fire that burns you to touch her… but you can’t help but be like a moth to the flame… grab hold with both hands.”  He advised.  “If she’ll let you… don’t let go.”  He left and Vilkas turned back to look at Saadia to see her looking at him with bright eyes.

“Are Skjor and Aela in love?”  She whispered excitedly. 

“Skjor and Aela are none of our business.”  Vilkas answered and then felt an unexpected flood of relief, “You had us all scared to Oblivion and back.”  He chastised her.

“It wasn’t deliberate.”  She answered sourly, “I’ll know not to get on the other side of Farkas’s fists again.”

“I don’t think that’ll be a problem.”  Vilkas noted dryly.

“And I’ll try to avoid yours too.”  She said, “That wasn’t a fun healing time either.”  She tried to sit up but groaned and put her hand to her head.  “Still dizzy.”  She said and laid back.  “Help me get to Farkas’s bed so I can leave you in peace.”  She asked.

“Rest.”  Vilkas ordered, “It’s fine, you stay in my bed.”  He said and turned to his shelves.  “Wine, ale, mead or water?”

“Water.”  He nodded in reply and poured her a mug of water.  He sat on the edge of the bed and held the mug for her.

“Come on, drink.”  He said gently and she sat up weakly, Vilkas putting his hand on her back to help her, putting the mug to her lips for her.  She took a sip and leaned against his chest while she swallowed, he wrapped his arm around her to hold her up more firmly.  She took another sip and looked up at him, her eyes not as clear and focussed as he was used to seeing. 

“Thank you Vilkas.”  She said, “You’re a good brother to him.”  She added.

“I suppose.”  He said softly.

“I don’t think you’re doing this for me.”  She added, “But thank you for doing this for him.”  She squeezed his hand and laid back down.

“I…” Vilkas didn’t know how to reply to that.  “You’re my Shield-sister, of course I-”

“You’re a good brother.”  She repeated and rolled over to face the wall and sleep more.  He stared at her back, wanting to argue with her, but what would he say?  She was right; he was doing all of this because Farkas had asked him to watch her. 

He sat down in his most comfortable chair and stared at her back moodily. 

A few minutes later Farkas came in and Vilkas looked him over.

“Aela did a good job on your nose.”  He noted.

“I think she enjoyed inflicting the pain of re-breaking it.”  Farkas said with a smile, “And sure I’ll be even prettier now.”  He joked and went to the bed, “Kodlak said she’s healing well, fast?”

“Extremely fast.”  Vilkas watched as his brother pulled his bloody shirt off and pulled back the blankets.

“Vilkas?”  She asked and Vilkas felt a sudden surge of fear; what would Farkas think?

“Nah it’s me.”  He said and she rolled over.

“You’re back.”  She said happily and hugged up to him as he was still settling into bed. 

“Sorry Vilkas.”  He said looking back at his brother, “You can use my bed tonight.”  He offered.

“Are you all healed up?”  Saadia asked without opening her eyes.

“I need some sleep; I’ll be fine tomorrow.”  He answered.

“Me too.”  She said, “My head still has too much blood in it.”  She said and he stroked her face gently, “it swims.”  She giggled drunkenly. 

“I’m sorry Saadia.”  He whispered.

“No favouritism.”  She answered.

Vilkas backed out of the room, watching them hold each other for a moment longer before closing the door. 

He considered going back up to the feast, he’d seen an Imperial wench that he quite enjoyed; intelligent conversation and fiery, passionate lovemaking… he’d been a repeat customer because she was worth every gold piece.  But he wasn’t much in the mood for company.  Then again, he wasn’t much in the mood for going into his brother’s room and smelling all the sex they’d had in there.  He could smell it from here.  He just hoped his brother had the decency to not have sex in his bed.  He turned back to the door, seriously considering telling his brother that, but deciding not to. 

Instead he went into Farkas’s room and tried not to breathe too deeply.  He laid down on the bed, on top of the blankets and tried to get his thoughts in order. 

 

***

 

When she had left Jorrvaskr the next morning everyone she came across was so excited to see her it was like she really had died and returned from the dead.  And everyone commented on how she had no bruises.  They all decided this was the product of her being the Dragonborn.

Lydia had been the happiest; she had thrown her arms around Saadia and then apologised profusely for being inappropriate.  Saadia hadn’t considered what it meant for a housecarl if their charge died.  She supposed it meant Lydia’s life was over too; Saadia just didn’t know if that was literally or metaphorically.

After visiting her home to grab some things, Saadia set out to do some tasks for the townsfolk… and hopefully earn some gold so she could get her house renovated and furnished. 

The first job she did was for the Jarl; cleaning some bandits out of an iron mine so that the workers could get back to work.

It had been a bloody battle and the bandits had put up a decent fight; but Lydia and her had killed every last bandit, Saadia deciding that she would share the bounty money with Lydia when she received it. 

They stopped by the river for a bite to eat before continuing on to try and find Nettlebane for Danica.  Danica had marked its location as South East of Riverwood, so she visited Hadvar, dropping off some books for him and telling Camilla all about potted glowing mushrooms and promising to get her a potted mushroom of her own, before they started the arduous journey to Orphan Rock. 

They climbed uphill, sometimes on dirt paths, other times scrambling up rocky mountainous terrain, but always heading South East. 

Eventually the path became unpassable and they had to change course, hoping that they’d be able to find a path up the mountain. 

When they crested a hill and saw the closed gates of a walled town, Saadia felt her heart suddenly lurch and she didn’t know why. 

“Helgen.”  Lydia said softly and Saadia suddenly recognised it. 

She saw a bandit walking the half destroyed rampart and realised that the ruins had been taken over by them.  The graveyard of so many people had been befouled by these thugs.

“Are you ready for an unscheduled stop on our journey?”  Saadia asked Lydia and Lydia nodded, her eyes on the bandit, her feelings clearly echoing Saadia’s.

Saadia looked up at the sky, it was starting to get dark; finding Orphan Rock had been harder than expected.

“We’ll have to make camp soon.”  She noted.

“Yes my Thane.”  Lydia agreed. 

“But we have time to get bloody first.”  She grinned and Lydia unsheathed her sword and shared the grin with her. 

When they got closer, they saw that the bandits had put some of the burned bodies of the villagers on display in order to frighten people away.

Saadia saw red – she was utterly enraged and she slammed her warhammer into the makeshift gates the bandits had made until they shattered.

Inside the bandits were prepared to defend themselves and almost immediately they were surrounded by people with axes and swords, archers further back.  Saadia looked at Lydia and Lydia nodded.

“Death or glory, my Thane.”  She answered and they both swung their weapons at the same time. 

Saadia swung her warhammer in a wide sweeping arc, taking out three people at once, all of them left rolling on the floor screaming in pain; their legs shattered.  Saadia smashed their skulls in, in between dodging arrows.

Lydia shoulder barged the person closest to her and then swung her greatsword at their neck as they stumbled away, beheading them.  In the same sweeping motion she turned, bringing the sword above her head and brought it crashing down on the helmeted head of another bandit.

Saadia quickly slipped her hammer into the weapon holder on her back and pulled out her bow, kneeling to try and make her poor aim a little better, she took aim at an archer.  She missed with her first shot, but hit him in the stomach with the second one.  He keeled over, holding the arrow, screaming in pain.  She looked over at Lydia, who was in a sword battle with a heavily armed swordswoman, sword smashing against sword brutally. 

She took aim at Lydia’s opponent and shot an arrow into her arm; the armour stopping it short.  But the bandit looked up at Saadia, and with that distraction Lydia beheaded her.

“Thanks, my Thane!”  She called,

“I was aiming for her neck.”  Saadia retuned and Lydia gave her a look before they both laughed loudly, Lydia pulling out her bow and arrows to take aim at the archers still trying to stop them.

“Cover me.”  Saadia said, swapping weapons again, meaning to kill each archer with her hammer.  Lydia took aim at the first archer and shot him through the eye.

“By the Gods…” Saadia said, “I have to improve my archery!”  She said running on to the next archer, dodging his shot and slamming her hammer into her head.

Two more archers and everyone that had ambushed them was dead.

“There’ll be more.”  Saadia said.

“Oh yes, my Thane.”  Lydia said as she swapped weapon, holding up her greatsword and edging further into the ruined town. 

Saadia looked around, recognising practically nothing; everything was in ruins.  But then again, she had only been here long enough to get nearly executed. 

She could recognise cottages, places where people had lived, many of them having lived here their whole lives. 

She walked up to one of the cottages, the door was gone, the roof caved in, the walls blackened, charred, twisted.

She wondered what had become of Hamling, the boy who had seen his whole family die, but Hadvar had rescued him…

She looked around, tears in her eyes, thinking of all the death that had happened here.

“Lydia.”

“Yes, my Thane.”

“I think I want to kill every damned Dragon in Skyrim.” 

“I will gladly join you in this task, my Thane.”  Lydia answered. 

They walked through a maze of twisted broken buildings and Saadia recognised the place that the huge black Dragon had landed on the wall.  Hadvar had saved her life pulling her back from the flames. 

They clambered through the ruins and Saadia caught sight of the inn, the broken keep tower above it, looking like it would fall at any moment.  The bandits had made their main camp here.

The two women ran in, weapons high, smashing skulls and slicing necks.

“You can’t beat me!”  Cried an Orc bandit and Saadia smashed her hammer straight through his skull.  When the other bandits saw him slump to the floor dead they began to run. 

Saadia and Lydia hunted every last one of them down, killing them with no mercy, even when they pleaded for it. 

When they were done killing all the bandits, they piled their bodies up outside of the town and burned them after taking anything worth selling off them.  Saadia found a few bottles of mead mixed with Juniper Berries and she held the bottle to her chest, thinking of Ralof and feeling a wash of emotion about that day.  He loved this drink and he had been kind to her when she had been about to die.  It meant something that he had been kind and brave in the face of death.  She wondered if he had survived the attack.  She decided to keep this mead – she wanted to give it to him one day. 

She walked out of the inn and saw Hamling’s father’s body, burned and decaying, half eaten by the Dragon still on the floor, right next to the chopping block.  The block was still stained with blood.  She looked over at the tower; she had fled into that tower and Ulfric Stormcloak had been in there.  She still didn’t know what she thought about him or his uprising, or the fact that he had fled without helping villagers… but then, so had she.  She wouldn’t do that now.  She had her bearings now, she knew the lay of the land better.  She’d do better in the next Dragon attack. 

“We have to bury them.”  Saadia said looking down at Hamling’s father.

“Yes.”  Lydia agreed, “my Thane.”  Her voice was choked with emotion. 

 

***

 

They camped that night in a small cave near Helgen, eating some venison from a stag Lydia had shot. 

Saadia had found several bottles of the mead with Juniper Berries, so she was drinking one now in honour of the people in Helgen, finally laid to rest. 

“How did you become a housecarl?”  She asked Lydia. 

“It is an honoured and esteemed position.”  Lydia answered.  “But I began as a slave; my father sold me to bandits to pay off his debt.” 

“By the Gods.”

“I was just 13.”  Lydia said, “And... well I used a lot of deathbell.”  She said softly.  “But the reason I had to use it was very much against my will.” 

There was a moment of silence.

“I hope you killed them all.”  Saadia answered and Lydia sighed.

“Not yet.”  She said, “but I will.”  She answered fiercely, “the Jarl was travelling through his land, and he found our camp, he fought the bandits with his guards and Irileth.  He killed all of them that he could – some ran off.  He found me in a cage in the back of the camp.  I was half wild with abuse and starvation.  I tried to bite his hand when he reached out to me.”  She laughed with embarrassment.  “Irileth managed to get me out of the cage; a woman’s voice… And she took me in.  Looked after me, trained me.  I’ve worked for Jarl Balgruuf ever since.  He’s the only man I don’t despise.”  She said honestly, “I see him as a father… a distant and demanding father.  But a father I’m proud of.”  She said, “And willing to take orders from.”  She poked the fire with a stick, “I had done a lot of guarding jobs, taking his children to visit relatives in Solitude, things like that.  There was always a large contingent of guards in things like that.”   She said, “When you and Irileth went to the Western Watchtower, he came into the barracks and told his elite troops that he might be granting a new Thane-ship, to the person who had survived the attack on Helgen and had brought us the Dragonstone; the key to defeating the Dragons.  He asked us who amongst us had the honour to deserve to be your housecarl.  All of us raised our hands.”  She told Saadia, “Such an honour to serve such a woman with my life.”  She blushed.

“How did he choose you?”

“He chose the best 5 of us, and told us to fight it out.  Last person standing, no killing.”  Lydia answered, “I won the honour of being your housecarl.”  Lydia smiled, “Of course, only moments after that the rumour went around the guards that you were Dragonborn and the honour became even greater.”

“Wow…”  Saadia said softly, well I hope I lived up to your expectations.”  She answered feeling sure she hadn’t.

“If I may?”

“Speak freely.”

“You are nothing like I imagined, my Thane.”  Saadia started to laugh and Lydia blushed again, “I just thought… Dragonborn, she’ll be so above us… but you’re not like that at all.  I mean you are, and seeing you use the Thu’um is the greatest thrill and honour of my life… but you’re humble… and you don’t have to be, you know?”  She looked at Saadia with deep admiration, “You walk around helping the townsfolk, fixing their little problems… I’ve never known anyone like you.  It’s a privilege to be permitted to give my life to you.” 

“Well there’ll be no life giving Lydia!”  Saadia answered, “I intend to see you get married and have kids.”

“I will never marry a man.”  Lydia said, “I would rather die than have a man touch me ever again.”

“Fair enough.”

“Housecarls give their lives in service.”  She said, “I have no need of family.”

“Nonsense.”  Saadia said, “You’re part of my family now.” 

Lydia again was choked up with tears and Saadia gave her some mead so that the proud woman could cover her emotions by taking a long swig of alcohol. 

“You should sleep my Thane, I will keep watch.”

“We’ll take turns.”  Saadia answered, “You sleep first and I’ll wake you in a few hours.”

Lydia looked like she might argue, but knew better now than to bother.

“Yes, my Thane.”  She said and laid down to sleep, while Saadia felt pleased that she was getting the hang of being a Thane. 

 

***

 

In the morning they found what they thought was a path, but it led to a dead end, sheer cliffs ahead of them.

“Sometimes finding places in Skyrim is a real pain.”  Saadia said eyeing off the cliff.  “I reckon I can get up it.”  She said, holstering her warhammer and starting to climb the rock face.

“Are you serious?”  Lydia said to herself as she watched her Thane climbing like a spider up the wall.  She looked around and sighed, “Alright.”  She said and began the climb too. 

As soon as they reached the top a fireball hit Saadia square on the chest.  She fell back, Lydia catching her as she did.  They toppled on the edge of the cliff, Lydia managing to keep them upright, Saadia regaining her footing, winded, her chest aching with pain, but she was otherwise alright.

“Witches.”  Lydia said as they crouched behind a rock.  “We must be close.  Hagravens always have witches with them.” 

“Treat them like archers?”  Saadia asked and Lydia nodded.

“Except arrows are easier to dodge than fireballs, ice spikes and lightning strikes, my Thane.”  Lydia noted.   “And they can destroy arrows before they even get to them, just burning them mid-flight.”

“Any weaknesses?”

“It requires a lot of energy to cast spells.  And it takes time for it to regenerate.  In advanced witches that time might be just seconds.  But for novice witches, it might take minutes.”

“So we keep cover and move closer as quickly as we can.”  Saadia answered.  “Wait for a break in their fire and kill them.”

“Yes my Thane.”

They broke cover, both diving for the next rock, a lightning strike following Lydia and another fireball hitting the ground just inches from Saadia’s feet.  Saadia peaked out from behind the rock and saw a tree nearby that she’d run to. 

“I’ll kill you!”  The witch cried as she blasted another fireball at Saadia.  Saadia waited and then broke cover, running for the tree.  She waited for another fireball but there wasn’t one.  She looked for the next cover; a fallen tree.  She ran for it; no fireball.  So instead she changed course and ran straight for the witch, hiding behind a tree.  She slammed her warhammer into the witch’s head, the warhammer thunking to a halt against the tree trunk, blood, skull and brain smeared all over the tree.  The witch’s body collapsed.

Lydia was keeping the lightning witch occupied; she was obviously more adept at magic; she was still casting spells.  So Saadia crept up behind her, while her attention was focussed on Lydia, and brought her hammer crashing down on top of her head. 

With those two taken care of, they headed up the path.  There were strange markings, painted in blood and faeces on the rocks all around them, bones and skins of animals tied together to create hideous monster like statues, taproot, taken from Spriggans hanging from trees, held with netting.  Lydia explained what taproot and Spriggans were quietly as they crept up the path.

And then a massive gout of flame came at them.

“Dragon!”  Lydia rolled away, but Saadia knew that this flame wasn’t big enough to be from a Dragon.  And she hid behind some rocks and looked up for the source of the fire.

And then she saw it… her… a woman in black rags with limp, greasy black hair… but her feet were hideously malformed, seemingly facing backwards… no they were bird claws, and there were huge black feathers all over her skin, her nose hooked like a beak, her teeth yellowing.

“Hagraven.”  Saadia said, understanding the name; she was a mix between a hag and a raven. 

She ran up the hill, rolling away from the spurts of fire and hit the Hagraven in the stomach with her warhammer.  But the hideous creature laughed and spurted forward more fire at Saadia.  And a third witch appeared, shooting forth a spray of freezing liquid that froze Saadia still.

“Pretty, pretty…”  The Hagraven said and ran a taloned finger down Saadia’s cheek. 

Lydia crept up slowly, as the witch and Hagraven crowed about catching Saadia. 

When she was close enough, she broke cover and rammed her sword through the back of the witch, piercing her heart and killing her instantly.

The ice surrounding Saadia was broken, the spell dying with its caster. 

She rushed forward and head butted the Hagraven, breaking its beaky nose, the Hagraven screeched and sprouted fourth a gush of fire. 

Lydia and Saadia dived for cover again, this time Saadia continued creeping around the rock, to try and flank the Hagraven, who was still sprouting fire at where Saadia had been. 

But Saadia stepped on a twig and the sound made the Hagraven change its direction and spew forth her fire at the rock where Saadia was now hiding, the rock beginning to heat up and melt.

“By the Gods.”  Saadia swore through gritted teeth. 

Lydia took this as her chance to sneak up on the Hagraven, successfully stabbing her through the back too.  But the Hagraven turned to her, Lydia’s greatsword jutting out of her chest obscenely, and grinned, her rotting yellow teeth glistening with blood and saliva.

“You can’t kill me.”  She hissed.

And then Saadia’s warhammer connected with her head, sending her crashing to the ground.  Saadia brought the hammer back up, high over her head and brought it crashing down on the Hagraven’s skull again, shattering it.

“Care to make a wager on that?”  She asked the dead Hagraven.

Saadia searched the Hagraven and found an ugly, twisted dagger that thrummed with a dark power.

“This has to be it.”  She said, not wanting to touch it.  Lydia tore some material off the robes the witch was wearing and wrapped it around the dagger so they didn’t have to touch it. 

They looked around and saw a fallen tree over a ravine, some tents on the other side. 

“Let’s go and see if there’s anything in those tents.”  Saadia said, seeing another animal statue monstrosity resting over the top of one of the tents; she knew that was the Hagraven’s tent.  And who knew what they’d find inside worth selling?

They found gold, rubies, and Hagraven feathers and claws, and a strange table with arcane markings on it.  She had seen something very similar in Farengar’s rooms in Dragonsreach. 

When they went through the chest in the Hagraven’s tent they found a lot of young deathbell.

“Who was bedding her?”  Lydia asked and they laughed.

“No...”  Saadia said shaking her head, “People find all sorts of people attractive.”  She said diplomatically.

“I agree, my Thane… but a Hagraven?”  Lydia answered and they both started laughing again. 

They searched through the other tents and found a locked chest.

“Time to try my lock picking again.”  Saadia said and knelt before it, Lydia looking on with interest.

“Looks tricky.”  Lydia said when one of the lock picks broke, Saadia pulling out another one.

“It is.”  She answered, concentrating, this was a hard lock.  “There better be something good in it.”  She closed her eyes and tried to feel her way through the lock.

“What if it’s something useless like bones for their dark rituals?”  Lydia asked and Saadia broke another pick.

“Lydia, my dear housecarl, go and search the other tents.”  Saadia said as patiently as she could.

“Yes, my Thane.”  Lydia answered and Saadia focussed one the task at hand. 

A few minutes later-

“Blast these witches to Oblivion!” 

“What is it my Thane?”

“All of that for 13 gold pieces and a bunch of bones…”

“For their dark rituals, my Thane.”  Lydia answered, trying not to laugh. 

“I don’t care; I need the gold.”  Saadia tried to think positively. 

“Well I found 8 gold on the floor in this tent.”  Lydia answered.

“Well that’s yours; whatever you find is yours.”

“My Thane-”

“New rule I just made up.”  Saadia declared. 

“My Thane, I am paid a wage from the Jarl for this job.  The money we find is your wage for this work.”  Lydia reasoned but Saadia waved her off. 

Lydia shrugged and simply decided to slip it into her coin bag while she slept. 

“Let’s head home.”  Saadia said, “I need to bathe after that.” 

 

***

 

They got into Whiterun just after lunch, and Saadia went straight to Warmaiden’s to sell things.  Adrianne asked her if she could deliver a sword to her father to give to the Jarl as a gift.  She seemed scared of presenting it to him herself, and she had heard that Saadia was helping out the townsfolk.

Saadia took the beautiful sword, wished she could keep it herself, and agreed to take it to Proventus, her father. 

She went to sell things to Belethor as well, and he was his usual sleazy self, commenting that she could sell him the clothes and armour off her back if she liked. 

She headed up to Dragonsreach and got her bounty for cleaning out the iron mine, and gave Proventus the sword.  He seemed embarrassed on behalf of his daughter.

“Poor girl, so eager to prove herself.”  He sighed, “I’ll try to find the best time to present this to the Jarl; when his mood is agreeable.”  He said softly. 

“This is a good sword.”  Saadia told him.

“Oh I know.”  He said, “She is very talented.  But Eorlund Gray-Mane will always be the best.”  He sighed, “And do you know how many gifts the Jarl gets every day?”  He asked, “I don’t want this one to be one of many that he barely notices.” 

“Alright, well I wanted to purchase some furniture for my-”

“I think you should check your home before you do that.”  He said, “We can certainly have our workers make any furniture you require, but you might be surprised when you get home.”  He said with a knowing smile and Saadia gave him a questioning look. 

She left Dragonsreach and headed through Whiterun back to her home.  When she opened the door, the firepit was ablaze, there was a rack above it hanging from the ceiling, with pots and pans and drying cooking herbs on it.  Empty bookshelves and cupboards, and by the fire two chairs and a table, Farkas was sitting naked in one of the seats. 

“Oh!”  Lydia said and Farkas, completely unembarrassed looked at Lydia and gave her a wink.

“Sorry about that.”  He said and turned his eyes to Saadia.  “Welcome home.”  He said with a huge grin.

“That’s fine Farkas.”  Lydia said, meaning it, she knew Farkas was harmless, “I might just head back up to the castle and visit with some friends in the guard.”  Lydia said.

“Good idea.” Saadia said without taking her eyes off Farkas.  She heard the door close behind Lydia and she shook her head, beginning to laugh.

“I can’t believe you!”  She laughed and he stood up.

“Well you said you like me best naked.”  He answered, “And I didn’t want you to be angry at me for trespassing on your property.”  He grinned, “But most of the town was actually involved.  A lot of people made donations.  Ysolda organised the donations.”  He said as he got up, “And Ria, Njada, Athis, Aela, Vilkas and I put everything in.”

“Vilkas helped?”  She asked in disbelief.

“I told you he liked you.”  Farkas shrugged.

“And Aela?”

“I can’t explain that one.”  He answered.  “Have a look around.”  He said and she did, looking at the kitchen table and cupboards they’d put in.  And in the room under the stairs there were two beds.

“We got more beds donated than we knew what to do with.”  So we just put them in here.  Figured if Hadvar or Camilla visited they’d have a room to stay in.”  He answered her unasked question.  She noticed some weapon racks and instantly took the axe of Whiterun that Jarl Balgruuf had given her and put it on display above the door.  She stood looking up at it, feeling a real sense of peace and Farkas put his arms around her.  “Want to look upstairs?”  He asked with a hint of suggestion.

“Are you a gambling man?”  She asked.

“I’d put 100 gold pieces on a Dibellan Kiss coming up soon…”  He said, his eyes travelling down her body to her groin, “You’re all dirty from battle and sweaty and…”  He groaned.

“You’re so dirty.”  Saadia gave him a kiss.

“You love it.”  He said and picked her up.  He loved picking her up, and she loved that he could do it. 

He walked her up the stairs, ready to throw her on the bed, but she stopped, wanting to look at the landing; there were tables and weapon plaques up here too.  And her room had a new bed and table and chairs in it. 

She hadn’t realised it downstairs, but she realised it here;

“You put walls in?”  She touched the wall, amazed.

“Ah yes, the Jarl sent his men down on Kodlak’s request.  He didn’t charge anything for the work.”  Farkas said, “You’ve got powerful friends.”  He said, “now if you don’t mind… I think I should be throwing you on the bed right about now…?”

Saadia looked over at the new bed.  It was soft and comfortable looking. 

And she started to cry.

“What is it?”  Farkas asked, utterly confused. 

“My life before Skyrim was an exercise in having everything slowly taken away from me.”  She explained, “I came here in an attempt to give myself a chance at something more… and…”  she looked around her very own bedroom; the first time she’d ever had one, “The people here have given me everything.” 

“You’ve given us a lot.”  He reminded her. 

“I’ve always given a lot… this is first time that…”  She shook her head, unable to find the words anymore. 

“Should I get us both a drink?”

“No.”  She said, “It’s time for testing out this new bed.”  She said with a watery, but lusty grin. 

“You don’t need to tell me twice.”  Farkas said, grabbing her hips. 

 

***

 

There was still no food in the house, so the next morning, Saadia headed to the Bannered Mare for breakfast.  Farkas and Vilkas had already gone to a job in Markarth and wouldn’t be back for a few days.  After breakfast she intended to drop in at Jorrvaskr and thank everyone for the amazing job they had done on her home. 

“Come on in Saadia dear!”  Hulda said as she opened the door.  “It’s so easy to remember your name!”  Hulda said, “You came to Whiterun on the same day as my sweet new barmaid!  And her name is Saadia too!”

“Yes I heard about her…” Saadia said and the thought of the Alik’r men suddenly came back to her; they were looking for a woman… could it be her?

But the bard Mikael struck up a song and she remembered that she had to talk to him about stopping his harassment of Carlotta. 

She waited for him to finish his song and then approached him.

“Ah I knew it was only a matter of time before you approached me.”  He said, reaching to stroke a lose strand of hair.  Saadia dodged his touch with ease.  “I’m the most famous bard in all of Skyrim,” He continued unperturbed by her dodge, “It’s only right that you sought me out.”

“You need to stay away from Carlotta.”  She said simply, Lydia standing behind Saadia, crossed her arms, her steely gaze never leaving Mikael. 

“Carlotta put you up to this didn’t she?”  He laughed. “I’m sorry, but that fiery widow is mine!  She just doesn’t know it yet.” 

“Disgusting skeever.”  Lydia mumbled, not wanting to interfere with her Thane’s business, otherwise she would have shouted it at him and spat in his face. 

Saadia laughed with Mikael for a moment and then her face was instantly straight.

“Leave her alone or I’ll smash my warhammer through your skull.”

“Woah, hey there!”  Mikael backed up, his mood suddenly serious, “Ok, you can tell Carlotta she won’t have to worry about me anymore.”

“Good, and if she tells me you are bothering her...”  Saadia said and took her hefty warhammer in her hands, still stained with blood.

“I won’t talk to her again, except to buy food.”

“Buy your food somewhere else.”  Saadia suggested and he nodded.

“Alright.”  He agreed readily. 

“Hulda, hearty breakfast gruel please?”  Saadia said as she walked away from Mikael and sat down at a table. 

After breakfast she told Carlotta and the three woman had a bit of a laugh about the look on Mikael’s face during the conversation.

“Oh I’d thank the Gods, but I’ll settle for thanking you.”  Carlotta said, “My friend.”  She smiled warmly at Saadia and gave her an apple for free, “Half price for you, forever.”  She said.

She sat down to eat and watched the barmaid that shared her name for a while cleaning the steps that led into the inn, wondering if she might talk to her and see if she was the woman the Alik’r were looking for.  But not today; she still didn’t trust those men, and she needed to think about what she was going to do if this barmaid was her.

Instead she went to Jorrvaskr and spent the morning thanking everyone, and drinking a lot of mead.

After lunch she headed out to the temple of Kynareth across the miniature park to give Danica this accursed dagger; Nettlebane. 

The priestess looked at the dagger as Saadia held it out to her, uncovering it carefully.

“Oh…”  She said, feeling the power emanating from it, “Yeah I’m not going to touch that.”  She said and Saadia sighed.  She already knew what was coming.  “I honestly didn’t think you’d come back.”  She said, “I’m so glad you did…”  She looked back down at the blade with disgust. 

“What needs to be done?”  Saadia said, cutting to the point.

“The Eldergleam resides in a hidden grove to the east of here.”  Danica intimated.  “You can use Nettlebane to collect some of its sap.”

“Alright.”  Saadia said and a patient cried out in pain.  Saadia watched as Danica smiled and then rushed to the war-wounded farmer.  The whole temple of Kynareth had been turned into a make-shift hospital. 

“Did I hear correctly that you are travelling to the grove of the Eldergleam?”  A man came up to her, Lydia and Saadia exchanged a look.

“Yes…”  Saadia said, wondering what he would say.

“I am Maurice, a pilgrim.”  He said excitedly, “I follow the voice of Kynareth wherever it can be heard.”  He explained.  Saadia sighed internally. 

“Aright…”  She said reluctantly. 

“I haven’t asked for anything…”  He was confused.

“You want to come to the grove with me.”  Saadia knew.

“I promise I won’t get in the way.”  He pleaded.

“I already said alright.  Come on then pilgrim.”  She said trying to hide her reluctance, Lydia trying to hide her amused smile. 

“I thank you for your kindness!”  He beamed, “Oh, I’ve dreamed of seeing the Eldergleam for years.”

“Off to the grove of the Eldergleam then, my Thane?”  Lydia asked, both women ignoring Maurice.  Saadia nodded.

“Was it ever going to go any other way?”  She asked and Lydia shook her head.

They got some more information from Danica before heading back through Whiterun and once past the fortifications, heading East.  Danica had again marked the spot on the map for them, and they were hoping it would be easier to find than Orphan Rock had been. 

Maurice was a talkative travel companion.

“What’s happened to the Gildergreen is a travesty if you ask me.”  He commented as they walked along the road east.  They had started off running, but he simply could not keep up.  It was painfully slow. 

“Truly?”  Saadia asked, not even the slightest bit interested. 

“That priestess says it was struck by lightning and that she has no time to tend to it.  But that is her job!”  He complained.

“Looks to me like she’s got her hands full looking after the war-wounded.”  Saadia answered.

“What’s a war to a God?”  Maurice asked, “Mark my words, Kynareth will punish her, Whiterun and perhaps all of Skyrim for this transgression.”

“For a tree being hit by lightning?”  Saadia asked.

“For her lack of care!”  Maurice answered, frustrated that Saadia didn’t seem to understand. 

When Saadia saw a pack of wolves begin to hunt them, it was actually a welcome diversion-

Until Maurice ran at them, yelling, his fists held high and punched the lead wolf in the snout.

“By the Gods!”  Lydia swore, “he’ll get himself killed.”

“You stop him from getting himself killed, I’ll deal with the wolves.”  Saadia answered and Lydia had to drag Maurice kicking and screaming away from the wolves; he actually bit her arm and she smacked him up the side of the head hard, quietening him down. 

The journey now became a tense expedition; Saadia worried about being attacked, which often happened on Skyrim’s roads, because she had no doubt that Maurice would rush in and punch a Dragon on the nose if one landed in front of them.  And as annoying as he was, she had no wish to see an innocent person dead. 

Even though she darkly muttered to Lydia that she’d kill Maurice herself, if he asked how much further it was to the Eldergleam Sanctuary one more time…

Lydia had agreed that killing him might be good, especially since every time she came near him now he’d yell at her to watch what she was doing.

It was a real relief when they saw the cave opening at the edge of the sulphurous hot springs that resembled what Danica had managed to tell them over the screams of sick and injured patients, too badly injured for magic to heal properly. 

They crawled in through the opening and walked through a very ordinary cave tunnel.  Ordinary except that it was completely devoid of life; no mushrooms or moss, not even any skeevers.

The tunnel wound downwards for a long time.

“I wonder if the Eldergleam is still alive down here.”  Saadia said softly to Lydia.

“If it ever existed.”  Lydia said sceptically.

“Not a believer?”  Saadia asked and Lydia shrugged.

“I believe in the Gods… but as for their blessings?  I believe what I can see.”  She answered and Saadia nodded.

“Seems fair enough.” 

“May I ask you what you believe my Thane?”

“I honestly don’t know Lydia.”  Saadia answered, “I’ve read about Aedra and Daedra only a little, but I don’t know if any of them exist.

“Hm, don’t mess with Daedra.”  Lydia advised, “Most of them are completely evil.”  She said, “The Aedra though, the Divines, the Gods” She called them by their more common name, “They exist, I believe in them and they do grant us blessings… just… not as many as we think.”

“I guess I’ll have to see with my own eyes too.”  Saadia said and Lydia gave her a nod of approval. 

And then the cave tunnel opened up to reveal a huge cavern, a waterfall falling through a hole in the roof, the sun streaming in with it, creating rainbows in the air.  Dragonflies and butterflies darted around and flower seeds floated gently on the air.  There were vast gardens and green grass with pilgrims sitting in the light, staring up at a huge tree at the top of a winding path, the path now covered with the thick roots of the tree, falling down the hill and into the stream that ran through the cavern.  Birds darted around after insects, frogs croaked cheerfully, rabbits munched on the grass, unafraid of the peaceful pilgrims, people sat with their feet in the water, praying to Kynareth.

It was a peaceful, beautiful paradise, and both Saadia and Lydia’s jaws dropped. 

“I can’t believe I finally made it here!”  Maurice said in awe, “It’s like it was in my dreams!”  He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, “I can almost hear her heart beating.”  He said of the Eldergleam; a beautiful, and clearly ancient tree. 

“I guess I’m a believer.”  Lydia said softly and Saadia nodded slowly.  That such a wonder had survived through the ages, through wars, Dragons and the cruelty, malice, destructiveness and greed of Humans and Elves alike… It was a miracle. 

They walked slowly towards the path that lead through the park around the tree, looking around in awe.  Maurice wandered off on his own to fully enjoy his experience, and neither Saadia nor Lydia were sorry about that. 

“Welcome to Eldergleam Sanctuary my friend!”  A man called out to them.  He was sitting, barefoot, on the grass, his feet dangling over the rushing water, smiling serenely, “Kynareth humbles us with her beauty.”  He said taking a deep breath, “If you have any questions, ask Asta.”  He added before lying down on the grass, and stretching out his arms. 

“Do you think he’s in his cups, my Thane?”  Lydia asked.

“I think the only alcohol he’s had is the energy in this place.”  Saadia answered, still looking up at the tree. 

“I’ve never seen anything quite like this place.”  Lydia said as they continued on the path.

They came across Asta further up the path, near some hot steam vents coming up through the ground, keeping the air in the cave the perfect temperature for life, even if the outside was snowed over. 

She was sitting, looking out across the rushing river to the Eldergleam.

“Praise Kynareth for allowing such beauty into this world.”  She said in way of salutations.

“This is Eldergleam Sanctuary?”  Saadia asked and the woman smiled serenely and nodded.

“It’s just a small glimpse of the beauty Kynareth offers the world.”  She answered. 

“So that’s the Eldergleam?”  Saadia said more to herself than Asta.  She could see that even getting to its trunk was going to be impossible with those big roots in the of the path.

“Yes my friend, but no one has been able to get close to her for as long as I can remember.”  Asta answered, echoing Saadia’s thoughts.  And suddenly a nasty understanding came to Saadia; she would have to use the hideous, unnatural dagger on this beautiful tree.  “Although, there are rumours of a weapon that even Eldergleam herself would lift her roots for; more out of fear than respect.  But who would wield such an evil?”  She asked.

Lydia and Saadia shared a look; they knew the answer to that, and neither of them liked it.  They thanked Asta for her time and continued up the path. 

They went up some stairs and came to the first huge root across the path.

Saadia scrambled across the first root, but after that there were more, tangled together, too high to climb over.  There was no way to get past.  She looked down to the water line to see if there was a way around the roots, but she could see that it was a sheer drop off that way.

Nonetheless, Saadia tried to find a way through the roots without hurting the tree, scrambling about for nearly an hour, not getting past the first root.

“It’s hopeless, my Thane.”  Lydia said, puffing from the exhaustion of trying to climb up, over and through these roots.  But she was right; there was no other way. 

Saadia knew she had no option but to use Nettlebane, so she took it out of her satchel and touched the cold clammy handle.  Her innards shuddered with repulsion and she heard a gasp behind her.

“The rumours are true!”  It was Asta, coming up to see how they were going, “I beg of you, don’t use it to hurt the tree, nothing good can come of it!”  She backed away from them, obviously wanting Kynareth to know that she had no part in this travesty. 

“I’m sorry.”  Saadia whispered and turned to the tree, “Just move your roots…”  She whispered and put the blade to the tree roots. 

There was a high pitched squealing, hissing sound when the blade touched the tree and the root raised, the wood groaning and protesting the sudden movement. 

There was no sap, the tree was unhurt, but it was trembling, leaves falling from its crown as Saadia moved through the jungle of roots, touching Nettlebane to them if they refused to move. 

“I feel lower than a skeevers nutsack.”  Lydia said softly as they neared the top of the hill. 

“As do I.”  Saadia answered, “I had no idea this task would be so… disgusting.”

“Let’s just get the sap and get out of here.”  Lydia agreed. 

“I had no idea you were a woman of violence!”  Came an accusatory voice from behind; it was Maurice, of course.  “What exactly are your intentions in this blessed place?”

“I need the sap from the Eldergleam to fix the Gildergreen.”  Saadia answered, feeling very small in the shadow of this ancient tree. 

“You would violate this marvel of Kynareth's glory to fix that half-breed stump in Whiterun?”  He spat the words, “That's abominable.  Barbaric.  I'll have no part of this.”  He looked like she had personally betrayed him, “Why didn't you tell me what you intended?”

“Look, if you have a better plan, friend, I would love to hear it, because I’m not enjoying doing this.”  Saadia said.  It had been bad enough pressing the dagger to the roots, she didn’t want to pierce the trunk of the tree and gathering its sap; its life blood.

“Well... yes.”  He said thoughtfully, his antagonism towards her dropping, “There is something we could try.”  He told her, “It won't repair the tree back at the temple, but we could bring them a new one.”

“A new one?”  She looked to Lydia.

“Danica will hate that, my Thane.”  Lydia answered honestly.

“Danica can live with it.”  Saadia answered, “Show me what to do.”

“I knew you were good in your heart.”  He smiled at her, “Follow me.” 

They took the last steps up to the trunk of the Eldergleam, pilgrims timidly following them up the path, horrified, but also intensely curious to see the tree up close. 

“It’s beautiful.”  Lydia said and dropped her head in prayer.

“I think I can convince the tree to help us.”  Maurice answered, “But we must pray.”  He took her hand.

“I don’t usually pray.”  Saadia answered, but Maurice kneeled before the tree and looked up expectantly at her.

“Alright.”  She sighed and knelt down, staring at the tree. 

Beside her Lydia prayed silently and Maurice intoned a prayer loudly, the other pilgrims kneeling behind them silently.  She sighed and closed her eyes, trying to think of what to say in this prayer, and suddenly there was a vague recollection in her memory… something about Kynareth’s Kiss… The memory danced around the edges of her mind and was gone.   But she was sure it was something to do with Kodlak; she’d have to ask the old man.  And then the cottage, with the old woman swum before her mind’s eye, the woman tending her pit over the fire, Saadia exhausted and barely able to keep her eyes opened, her ankle bleeding all over the bed, the woman putting yellow flowers into the pot before coming over to give her some water. 

And then there was a strange peace; a knowledge that she had done the right thing.  She could almost feel the heartbeat of the tree, she could feel its life force, its energy, filling up the entire cavern.  She gasped as she felt the blessings wash over her. 

And then Maurice was laughing with joy, the other pilgrims praising Kynareth. 

Saadia opened her eyes and saw a sapling before Maurice, Asta rushed forward, taking her shirt off to bind its roots carefully, so they wouldn’t dry out. 

“The Eldergleam has blessed us with a sapling!”  Maurice cried and the pilgrims wept with joy. 

Lydia wiped away a tear from her cheek and Saadia looked at the sapling, filled with life and the strength of its mother plant.  It was destined to be great.  “You should take it to Whiterun.”  Maurice told her, handing the sapling to her, “Danica will want to see that the true blessings of nature lie in renewal, not a slavish maintenance.”

“Thank you Maurice.”  Saadia said with a deep felt gratitude; she really appreciated this man now… putting up with him for the journey there had been worth it.  “Will you come back with us?”

“No, I’m staying here.”  He said happily, looking around, “I’ll bask in Eldergleam’s warmth for a bit.”

“Thank you again.”  Saadia raised the sapling to him.

“It was my pleasure, friend.”  He smiled, “In a way, I envy you getting to carry such a direct sign of Kynareth's graces.”

Saadia looked down at the sapling and realised just how precious it was.

“I’ll look after it.”  She told him.

“I know you will.”  He answered. 

The pilgrims thanked her for not harming the tree as she left, and she held the sapling carefully, knowing it had to make it back to Danica alive. 

The journey home to Whiterun was much quicker than the journey to the Eldergleam Sanctuary, but it was still night when they finally got to the gates of Whiterun, the rain pouring down on them in a cold heavy stream.

Lydia had called the change in weather from warm and sunny to cold and rainy a blessing from Kynareth; it made it more likely the sapling would survive the journey home. 

As expected, Danica was not happy about the sapling.

“Do you have the Eldergleam sap?”

“I got a sapling…”  Saadia answered and they watched Danica’s facial expression turn to dismay and then anger.

“I can’t run this temple without the support of people who are inspired by the Gildergreen!”  She told them, “How is this little sapling going to inspire people?” 

“I don’t know Danica,” Saadia was feeling like this really wasn’t her problem; she was still disgusted by the whole Nettlebane thing, “But Maurice said that renewal is more important than maintenance.”

Danica looked like she had had a revelation.

“You’re right.”  Danica said, “Of course… I’m sorry, my friend; it can be hard to hear the winds of Kynareth when all you hear is the rabble in the temple.”  She looked around at all of her patients, “Death feeds new life.  In time,” She took the sapling from Saadia and looked at it lovingly, “this little sapling will grow to tower over Whiterun and inspire us all.”  She said happily. 

Saadia left the temple and looked at the night sky, the icy rain still falling, and quite suddenly her thoughts turned to that little girl, begging under the Gildergreen.  Her name was Lucia… and she was nowhere to be seen.

Saadia felt a stab of fear for the girl; surely she had somewhere safe and dry and warm to sleep? 

She walked around the park and found no sign of her, then she headed to the market, looking around to see if she was sleeping under one of the stalls, but the rain had left puddles of icy water under all of them; there was no safety here for an 8-year-old girl. 

“What is it, my Thane?”  Lydia asked as Saadia looked around.

“That girl, Lucia… She can’t be out in this at night.”  Saadia looked around.

“Rumour has it that she sleeps at the back of the Bannered Mare.”  Lydia answered and Saadia shot off at a sprint for the Bannered Mare, running around its perimeter until she found the tiny girl, half-starved, shivering and wet in the rain, her hands stuffed under her head, her knees curled up tightly into her chest. 

“Lucia.”  Saadia bent down and whispered, “Lucia….?”  She didn’t stir.  “She’s icy cold.”  Saadia said and picked the girl up.  “We have to get her home now.”

“Mama?”  She asked weakly.

“Come on honey, I got you now.”  Saadia said and sprinted for her home, Lydia close behind her.  “Lydia, find Arcadia; she’s going to need some medicine.”  Saadia said as Lucia started to cough.

“Of course my Thane, I’ll get Danica as well.”  Lydia ran back up the street to Arcadia’s home, above her shop. 

Saadia got her inside and stripped her wet clothes off, the girl still barely conscious.  She grabbed a dry blanket and wrapped it around the girl, sitting her beside the fire and grabbing some water from her water barrel. 

Lucia was unconscious when Saadia returned, but Saadia woke her up and made her sip some water. 

“Ale is best.”  Danica said when she opened the door, to see Saadia giving the girl a drink, “it warms them up.”  She said and cast a warmth spell on the child immediately. 

“Get her into bed.”  Arcadia said as she came through the door, Lydia following. 

Saadia picked her up, ordering Lydia to get the ale, and took her to the beautiful room under the stairs.  Saadia suddenly realised what this room was really for.  It wasn’t for guests, it was for Lucia.  She’d need to get some toys, and child friendly furniture, but this room was for this child… should she survive the night. 

Lydia brought a mug of ale and Arcadia put some healing potion in it before handing it to Saadia. 

Saadia sat on the bed and sat Lucia up, gently putting the mug to her mouth.

“Come one baby, drink it.”  She whispered. 

Arcadia and Danica busied themselves readying herbs for burning, to clear her lungs; they could all hear the way her lungs rattled as she breathed in air. 

Lucia drank a small amount of the drink and then coughed, her fingers clinging to Saadia’s braided hair.

“Mama.”  She whispered, her eyes still closed. 

“Drink some more Lucia.”  Saadia ordered her and the little girl took a deep gulp of the ale as Arcadia lit the herbs and Danica performed a Healing Hands spell, placing her hands on the child’s infected chest. 

Lucia started to breathe easier, but Danica was troubled. 

“I haven’t the energy to heal all of this.”  She said, “It will take time… She needs a home, proper food and protection from the cold, or she will surely die.”

“She has a home now.”  Saadia answered.

“Stay with her tonight, and I will return tomorrow to try to heal her more.”  Danica said simply. 

“Of course.”  Sadia answered and Arcadia gave Danica a nod and continued to burn the herbs, waving them over Lucia head, Lucia taking deep rattling breaths.  It was better than the shallow breaths she had been taking before.  They all knew Danica had other patients to tend to as well, but Arcadia could stay a little longer. 

After the herbs had burned out, Arcadia said her farewells, promising to return tomorrow to administer more herbs. 

“She’s burning up.”  Arcadia said, “But you need to keep her warm nonetheless.”  She said as she left. 

Lydia stood in the doorway as Saadia settled into the bed next to Lucia, keeping her warm with her own body warmth.

“I’ll sleep here.”  Lydia said, getting into the other spare bed. 

“Thank you for your help.”  Saadia said.

“I hope she doesn’t die.”  Lydia said softly.  “She doesn’t deserve it.” 

 

 

 

 


	5. Part 5

Morning broke pale and drizzly.

Lucia opened her eyes to see that nice lady who had given her lots of gold sleeping beside her.  She coughed, her chest feeling a little better today than it had the past few days.  She looked around and saw the other lady, Lydia, in the other bed, her eyes open, watching the child.  Lucia gave her a smile and the lady grinned. 

Lucia didn’t understand why she was here, in a bed… But she felt warm, and safe, for the first time in a long time.

“My Thane.”  Lydia said softly and Saadia started wake. 

She sat up and looked at Lucia, still pale, and feverish, but awake and alert, looking up at her.

“Lucia.” Her pensive face broke out into a smile, “How are you feeling today?”

“Better.”  She said.  “I don’t understand…?”

“I was thinking that maybe I could adopt you?”  Saadia said, “What do you think?”

“Really?”  Lucia asked, excited, but still too sick to express her excitement well, “You’d do that?  Are you sure?  You really wouldn’t mind having me around?”  The girl sounded so scared that Saadia would change her mind.

“I am so sure Lucia.”  Saadia answered.

“I promise I’ll be the best daughter ever!”  She broke out into a coughing fit and Saadia rubbed hr back while she brought up huge globs of putrid green phlegm.  But Arcadia had said that green phlegm was good, so Saadia rejoiced silently. 

Once the girl had stopped coughing and had had some water, Saadia continued their discussion. 

“Well, first you have to know that I have a lot of duties as Thane, a Companion, and as Dragonborn, and I might not be around as much as you’d like.”  Saadia told her.

“That doesn’t matter!”

“Lucia, it could be days or sometimes months that we don’t see each other.”  Saadia wanted the girl to know everything before she made a decision.  “You will have chores to do and responsibilities.”  Saadia laid it all on the table, “But you will have a home, food, an education, training, health care and someone to always look after you; I’ll make sure of it.”  She paused and let that sink in to the girl’s mind.  “And you’ll have love.”  She added, “So you have to decide if you want to be my daughter?  But,” She held up a finger when Lucia looked like she was going to reply immediately, “Even if you choose to not be my daughter, I will see to it that you never spend another night sleeping on the streets, begging, starving, being cold…”  Saadia added, “You’ll never be alone again, no matter what you choose.” 

“Yes!”  Lucia cried happily.

“Yes?”

“Yes mamma!”  Lucia added and Saadia knew that she had now become a mother; a new sense of purpose filled her, and the depth of this responsibility settled onto her shoulders comfortably, “Thank you so much!”  The frail girl sat up and flung her arms around Saadia’s neck and then broke out into another fit of coughing.  Saadia held her tightly and said soothing words to her.

“Lie down and rest; you’ve got a lot of healing to do.”  Saadia said, “I’m gonna go and get some food, and make you some gruel.”  She said.  “Danica and Arcadia will drop in today to help heal you, alright?”

“Alright.”  Lucia said. 

Saadia turned to Lydia, sitting up in the other bed. 

“Stay with her and guard her with your life.”

“On my life, my Thane.”  Lydia answered solemnly. 

 

***

 

Days passed and Breezehome settled into a routine.  Lydia turned out to be an excellent cook, and she maintained the kitchen; keeping it filled with food.  Lucia slowly mended under the care of Arcadia, using herbs to heal the infection, and Danica, using magic to draw the fluid from her lungs. 

She was starting to eat more, talk more and wanting to play more. 

Saadia spoke to the Jarl and had official adoption papers drawn up; he was pleased that Lucia was to be taken care of.  The child had been drawn to his attention, and he had been looking through his Hold for a family that could take her.  He would not have children begging in his hold. 

She also spoke to him about having her come to the castle for tutoring with his own children; she seemed to be remarkably intelligent and she doubted that she would be that far behind in the lessons.  The Jarl agreed; after all, he counted Saadia as among one of his few true friends, and she was Thane, her child should know a proper education. 

But Saadia’s coin was running short.  Keeping a household was expensive, and she wasn’t earning any coin while she stayed at home tending her sick child.  She just wanted to hold out until Lucia was back to healthy before taking off on more work. 

She had tried speaking to Olava about the rent, but the old woman only told her that she’d read her future some other time.  The next day the month’s rent had been left on the doorstep in a neat little coin bag.  Saadia decided to leave the matter at that.  She needed that gold to keep the house running!  She hoped that Lucia would get well soon so she could get out and make some more money.  Part of her enjoyed being at home with her, but Saadia was a warrior, and she missed battle.  And the gold. 

Saadia was putting some child-appropriate books in her bookshelf, Lucia was sitting by the fire while Lydia was cooking some lunch in a pot and there was a loud booming knock on the door. 

Saadia turned and looked at the door.

“Come in?”  She said and the door flung open to reveal Farkas, back from his journey to Markarth, a huge grin on his face.  He didn’t see anything else; just Saadia.  He dropped his bag at the door and went straight to her, pulling her into an embrace and kissing her lips passionately.  Saadia sighed with contentment and returned the kiss before remembering that she was no longer alone in her home.  She pulled away and Farkas gave her a quizzical look.

“Is this papa?”  He heard the question and turned to see the child staring up at him expectantly.  Saadia nearly laughed when a look of terror crossed his face, but she had to think of Lucia and she knelt down beside her daughter to try and explain a few things. 

“Um… this is Farkas.”  Saadia explained delicately, “He’s not your papa.” 

“Uncle?”  Lucia asked, staring at the huge man.

“By the Gods no.”  Saadia nearly laughed, “You don’t kiss your brothers like that.”  She added, noticing the way Farkas stared down at the child and the child stared up at him with curiosity, and no fear, despite his size and gruff appearance.  “He’s um… he’s a friend…”  Saadia continued, “A very good friend… a close friend…”

“He’s your lover.”  Lucia said sagely.

“What?”  Saadia was surprised to hear her say that word. 

“It’s alright mama,” Lucia put a hand on Saadia’s hand in comfort, “I know what sex is, I slept behind the Bannered Mare, remember?”

There was a moment of silence before Lydia broke out in laughter.  Lucia looked at her, not understanding the humour, but even Saadia started to laugh when Farkas blushed slightly.  He looked to Saadia, a pained expression in his eyes.

“I better go.”  He said, “I can’t just… drop over whenever I want any more.”  He said and turned his eyes back to Lucia. 

“You know Lucia will be tutored at the castle for 6 hours every day.”  Saadia answered, “And then she’ll need time to play with her friends.”

“I like Mila.”  Lucia said happily. 

“Carlotta’s daughter.”  Lydia filled in Saadia; Lydia knew everyone in Whiterun far better than Saadia did. 

“And Lars is cute!”  Lucia declared and Saadia gave her a look.

“Of the Battle-Born clan.”  Lydia noted with amusement.

“Oh right?”  Saadia asked, thinking of the request from Fraila Gray-Mane to find out what the Battle-Borns knew about Thorald, her missing son.  “Well maybe you can ask if he can come around for dinner one day?”  Saadia asked, thinking this was a good way to be introduced to the family. 

“Can I?”

“When you’re back to full health.”  Saadia answered, “And we’re going to have to have a talk about sex.”  Saadia said.

“It looks gross.  I don’t know why you adults do it.”  Lucia answered and Saadia and Farkas exchanged a look.

“Keep thinking that way kid.”  Farkas answered, “For at least a couple more years.” 

“And when… if… you ever feel like you want to try sex…”  Saadia said, Lucia staring at her, Lydia having to put a hand over her mouth to stifle the laughter.  “You don’t have to let anyone touch you; and if they touch you without your permission… actually, forgetting sex, no one should touch you without your permission, ever.  Not me, not Lydia, not Farkas-”

“I’m not gonna touch her.”  He still sounded slightly scared of her existence. 

“No one.”  Saadia continued, “And if they do, you come tell me or Lydia and we’ll beat them up.”  Lucia smiled at that, “Alright?”

“Can I tell Farkas too?”

“Oh, I don’t know…” Saadia began.

“Yeah sure thing kid.”  Farkas said, “I’ll break the hand of anyone who touches you without your permission, deal?”

“Deal!”  Lucia giggled.  Farkas turned to Saadia.

“So what I’m hearing is; you’re free during the daylight hours?”  He gave her a devilish grin.

“That’s right.”  Saadia said meaningfully, “Once Lucia is well again-”

“I’ve learned how to sleep through sex sounds.”  Lucia said and rolled her eyes at these silly adults. 

“Yeah I had to do the same.”  Farkas said, “My father used to love bedding wenches and we all shared the same room.”  He knelt down in front of her, “Kid shouldn’t have to learn to sleep through it.”  He said, “I’ll be discreet with your… mother.”  He said looking back up at Saadia. 

“Don’t worry not-papa.”  She said with a small smile that made Farkas scoff with laughter, “I don’t want to mess up mama’s life.”

“You’re not messing up my life.”  Saadia said firmly, “Things will just require an adjustment.”  She said looking at Farkas.  He nodded and took Saadia’s hand, still kneeling before Lucia.

“I’ll get used to it.”  He said grimly.  He looked at Lucia, “Well it’s good you got a home kid.”  He told her and then looked back at Saadia, “Vilkas had been agitating everyone about doing something to help her for months.” 

“Vilkas?”  Saadia was surprised.

“Vilkas always gives me money when I see him.  He’s nice… I just don’t see him very often.”  Lucia said, “He looks like you.”

“Yeah he’s my brother.”  Farkas said and then leaned closer to Lucia, as if about to tell her a big secret, “He’s the soft one.”  She giggled.  “Wanna go see him?”

“Can I?”  She asked.

“Sure thing kid.”  Farkas said and stood up.  She took his hand and looked back at Saadia.

“You’re still not well Lucia…”

“She’s not gonna get well inside.”  Farkas countered, “Kid needs fresh air.” 

“Alright,” She said to Farkas and then turned to Lucia, “but I want you home in an hour; Lydia’s got food cooking for you.”

“Alright mama.”  Lucia said and Farkas gave her a wink before taking her outside. 

“I love that child.”  Lydia said with high amusement.

“Me too.”  Saadia answered. 

“He took that better than I expected.”  Lydia admitted and tossed a bag of gold to Saadia; she’d lost the bet.

“I told you he’d get used to it quickly; there’s a big kid inside of him.”

An hour later Saadia sighed and headed up to Jorrvaskr; Lucia wasn’t home yet. 

But she was greeted with the sight of Farkas, Lucia on his shoulders, Vilkas beside him, walking back home.  Lucia was plaiting Farkas’s hair and prattling on and both of the brothers were listening closely.

“And we had 6 chickens, and I named my favourite one Henrietta.”

“That’s a funny name.”  Vilkas said.

“Didn’t the other chickens get jealous?”  Farkas asked.

“No I named them all.”  Lucia countered and Farkas made a noise of understanding.  “Mama!”  She said excitedly when she saw Saadia. 

“Hi Lucia.  Had a good time I see?”  Saadia said and Vilkas came forward to her and took her arm, shaking her hand like the warriors did to show deep respect for an equal. 

“Well met.”  He said to her, their eyes meeting.  She saw a fire in them, a deep respect for her in them, “I’m so glad that Lucia has found a home.”  He said, “We’d been talking about making room for her at Jorrvaskr, but none of us are the parenting type, and the Companions isn’t the place for kids.”  He admitted, “But with you, she’ll have a proper home.”

“We were there as kids.”  Farkas reminded Vilkas.

“I know.”  He returned and let go of Saadia’s arm, his eyes not leaving her.  “It’s no place for kids to grow up.”

“But Lucia will be coming back to learn how to swing a sword!”  Farkas told Saadia.

“And Aela said she’d teach me how to use the bow!”  Lucia said excitedly.

“Good!”  Saadia answered, “I won’t have any daughter of mine not knowing how to defend herself!” 

Farkas let Lucia down and the girl ran up to hug Saadia.  Saadia noticed that Vilkas hadn’t stopped looking at her, even as she bent to pick Lucia up and hug her tightly. 

“Good.”  Vilkas nodded, clearly having one less thing to worry about. 

It pleased Saadia to know that in the city she had chosen as her home, there were people looking out for Lucia, even if she hadn’t known it; people had been working to find a permanent, good solution for her.  But she was even happier that she could be the one to provide it. 

“Come in for lunch.”  Saadia offered and Vilkas shook his head and looked down.  “Yes come on, Lydia cooks well, but she always cooks too much.”  She held on to Lucia in her arms, motioning for the brothers to follow her.  Farkas did without concern, but Vilkas looked like he wasn’t sure if he should be there. 

“Ria killed a bear today!”  Lucia told Saadia as they headed home. 

“Yes, she’s a good hunter.”  Saadia returned.

“Maybe she’ll teach me to hunt?”

“Fishing is better for children.”  Vilkas countered, “Hunting is too bloody.”

“You have to kill something and eat it either way.”  Farkas said.

Saadia grinned and listened to the brothers arguing; turned out Lucia was going to have many parents. 

 

***

 

The day Saadia used the last of her gold to buy educational supplies for Lucia, including a dummy for sword practice, a lute for music lessons, books and ink and quills… She knew it was time to go out on the road again. 

Lucia was well enough to start her tuition, and to be running around playing with the other kids of the city… it was time.

Lucia was sitting at the kitchen table, strumming at the strings of her lute inexpertly, eating some nuts when Saadia sat opposite her.

“Lucia.  I have to go and do some work now.”  Saadia said and Lucia looked up from her lute, still chewing.

“I understand.”  Lucia said, “How long will you be away mama?”

“I’ll try to make it no more than a few days.”  She said, “Lydia will stay with you.”  Saadia looked up at Lydia and could see that her housecarl was torn between her duties; protecting her Thane, and protecting her Thane’s child.  “And I know everyone at Jorrvaskr will help with your fighting training.  That begins today too.  And you have tutoring up at the castle…”  Saadia continued, “You won’t be alone.”  But Lucia reached out and put a hand over Saadia’s.

“I know mama.”  She said simply, “I know you have to go.  It’s alright.  We’ll be alright.”  She looked back at Lydia. 

“Good.”  Saadia said, “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”  She said, heading up to her room to get her armour on.  It had been nice wearing just a simple tunic for the past few weeks.  But it felt nicer slipping on her steel; she was a warrior, and battle was in her blood. 

A final farewell, a few words to Lydia about rules concerning Lucia, and she was heading to Jorrvaskr for work. 

When she got there, the hall was empty, except for Kodlak, sitting at the table with a few books around him, staring into the firepit, lost in thought. 

“Harbinger.”  She said respectfully, looking around from someone else from the Circle to give her work.

“Come sit with me girl.”  He called her over, closing up a few of the books around him, but leaving one open and moving it closer to her.  “I can’t make any sense of this potion.”  He said to her, shaking his head, “So many of the ingredients in it should kill a person…”

Saadia looked down at the book.

“Ingredients for the legendary potion… Kynareth’s Kiss.”  She said softly, her brow furrowing.  She read down the list, “100 yellow mountain flowers, 15 Daedra hearts?”  She looked up at Kodlak and he nodded for her to keep reading, “20 Ancestor Moth wings… what are Ancestor Moths?”

“I can lend you a book about that if you like?”  Kodlak asked and Saadia nodded, continuing to read the list.

“4 boar tusks, 1 briar heart, 15 crimson Nirnroot, 12 lots of burned Spriggan wood…”  She shook her head, “I don’t know what most of this stuff is… A long piece of Emperor Parasol Moss, 44 giant lichens, a giant’s toe?” 

“Interesting isn’t it?”  He asked, “Read on.”

“1 yard of wisp wrappings, 10 yards of giant Frostbite spiderweb silk, a pint of Hagraven blood, 5 pearls, 8 bowls of powdered mammoth tusk, 1 Jarrin root, 100 snowberries, 2 Trama roots, a hawks’ tear, a pinch of void salts and a gallon of water blessed by Kynareth…”  She looked up at Kodlak again.

“Read the instructions.”

What followed was 10 pages of instructions, including what order to put ingredients in the pot, how to prepare them, where the twin moons should be in the sky, what the maker should be wearing, what prayers should be said…  Some ingredients could only be put into the pot after other ingredients had been brewing for months, boiling down to super concentrated liquids…

“It takes nearly 5 years to make this potion…”  She whispered.

“Oh yes.”  He nodded, “You’d have to be very committed.”  He noted.  “But look at the effects.”

“It is said that whomsoever drinks Kynareth’s Kiss becomes almost immortal; with most wounds, poisons and illnesses healing very quickly.  The potion creates a permanent change in the drinker, and grows as the drinker grows, becoming more and more powerful as trials are faced and overcome.”  She looked up at Kodlak.  “You think…”

“That you were given this potion?”  He asked with an amused gleam in his eyes, “It would explain how you survived Farkas’s kill-shot.”  He looked down at the book.  “But some of these ingredients are extinct.  Most are very hard to come by.  And who would commit 5 years to make this potion… for you?  And why?” 

“She called me Dovahkiin.”  Saadia said softly.

“Who?”

“The old lady who saved my life… and she told me to drink this potion because it would make me heal faster.  She told me I had some difficult times ahead, but that I had some sort of potential…”

“The potential of a Dragonborn?”  He asked and Saadia shrugged.

“I don’t know; she wasn’t very forthcoming to be honest.”

“But she knew you were Dragonborn; even before you did.”  Kodlak noted and Saadia nodded.

“She called me Dovahkiin… I didn’t know what it meant then.  But I do know.” 

“You need to see the Greybeards girl.”  He said softly. 

“I need some gold first…”  She shook her head, “I have a daughter to provide for now!”

“Ah yes, the Lucia girl.  Sweet little child.”  He smiled warmly, “She’s welcome here.”

“That’s because you like how she listens to your all your battle stories, old man.”  Vilkas said as he came up to them.

Kodlak gave a deep rumbling laughter.

“It is nice.”  He agreed. 

“Skjor has work for you Shield-sister.”  He said to Saadia, without looking at her, and sat down next to Kodlak, taking the book about potions from the table and reading through the list.  “Jarrin root is deadly even in small amounts, and it no longer grows in Tamriel.”  He shook his head.

“It makes no sense.”  Kodlak agreed and turned to Vilkas.

“I’ll go see Skjor then.”  Saadia said and got up. 

“When you’ve done what Skjor has for you, it’s off to the Greybeards girl.  That’s my advice as Harbinger.”  Kodlak gave her a wink and turned back to Vilkas. 

“Alright.”  She said and headed downstairs into the Companions sleeping quarters. 

“I’ve heard some rumours… about you and Skjor?”  It was Njada, leaning up against the door frame of the whelp’s sleeping quarters, speaking to Aela, who had narrowed her eyes.

“And if you want to keep having ears, you’ll pretend you didn’t.”  Aela answered and Saadia had to hide her smile, thinking of the conversation between Vilkas and Skjor.  But then she felt sad; Skjor was refusing Aela’s affections… because of her age.  Aela was 28 winters old, just as Saadia was, and even though Skjor was 20 summers her senior, Aela was old enough to make that decision herself. 

“Is it not allowed?”  Njada sounded confused, “Cos that big hunk of man-meat and the Dragonborn are-”

“It is not forbidden.”  Aela answered, “But even so, it’s not true.  So that’s that.” 

“Were you about to dob me in Njada?”  Saadia said as she approached them.

“Nah!”  Njada laughed.

“I think everyone already knows.”  Saadia advised her and pointed up towards Skjor’s quarters.  “Skjor in?”

“Yeah, he’s got something for you.”  Aela answered. 

“I’m on it.”  Saadia answered and continued up the hallway. 

Part way up the hallway she saw Torvar complaining to Farkas. 

“If there’s no leaders, why do I have to listen to Skjor then?”  He asked.

“Skjor has been a warrior for a very long time.”  Farkas explained, “You would be wise to listen to him.  Any warrior that gets to be old, is either fearsome or a coward.”  He paused for emphasis, “I’ll let you find out which Skjor is.” 

Saadia gave him a grin and Farkas winked at her before turning back to Torvar, the whelp practically begging to be allowed out into the field, Farkas saying he needed more practice first. 

Skjor was sitting in his room, a book on his knee, a tankard of ale in his hand, reading. 

“Close the door.”  He said without looking up as she approached.  Saadia did so and he snapped the book shut and looked up at her. 

“The Companions are my family.”  He said sternly, “I've battled next to every man and woman here, and the bonds of sweat are stronger than those of blood.”  His words hung in the air, “I would trust anyone here with my life, which is more than I'd say for the milk-drinkers who raised me.”

“I’ve come to trust quite a few people here too.”  Saadia agreed.

“Good.”  He nodded, “But you are causing waves in my family.”  He noted.

“I don’t mean to-”

“You’ve been in the Companions for barely a month, and yet, there’s agitation started.”  He looked her up and down, “On your behalf.”

“I don’t know what that means.”  Saadia said.

“You have beaten both of the Wolf brothers in combat.”  He said, “There’s no doubt about your strength, courage or skill…” 

“Thank you.”  Saadia answered.

“So Aela agitates to have you admitted into the Circle, as a fully initiated member.”  Skjor answered and Saadia had to stop herself from looking surprised.  “Normally it would take years to even be considered for the Circle.”  He noted, “But many feel that your considerable talents are worthy of early admission… and that brings me to the brothers.”

“Ah.”  Saadia nodded, “Of course.”  She had a feeling she knew what Skjor was going to say.

“The brothers agitate to have you not be initiated… but to instead be permitted membership to the Circle as an uninitiated member.”  Skjor snorted, “Something we’ve never done before.”  He banged the book against his knee thoughtfully, sizing her up.  “A compromise if you will.  It was Vilkas’s idea.” 

“Vilkas?”  She asked incredulously.

“He could see you wanted to rise up the ranks, and he and Farkas agree that you will not be satisfied with anything other than Circle membership.”  Skjor told her. 

“Well they’re right in that regard.”  Saadia agreed, “but I would like to be initiated.” 

“You don’t know what that means, girl.”  Skjor answered, “And besides, your fate has already been decided by vote of the Circle, you are to be admitted as an uninitiated member after you complete a trial to prove your honour.  We all have no doubt you will succeed though.”   

“I’m guessing that the brothers and Kodlak voted against initiation?”

“That’s right.”  Skjor nodded.

“And you and Aela…?”

“Voted for.”  Skjor told her.  Saadia raised her eyebrows, showing her surprise.  “Aela and I might be a little rough around the edges girl, but we know talent when we see it… and we both trust you.”

“Thank you for that trust.”  Saadia answered, “I still want to be initiated.” 

Skjor laughed and gave her a look of appreciation.

“You don’t quit do you?”

“No.  I don’t.”  Saadia squared her jaw.

“Well this topic will be debated many more times… You may get your wish yet.”  Skjor said.

“I thought there were no masters here.”  Saadia said, “Why don’t you and Aela simply initiate me yourselves?” 

Skjor scoffed and shook his head.

“We’ll see, new blood.”  He gave her a searching look, “Have patience.”

“Who are the Companions?”  Saadia asked, hoping that Skjor would simply tell her the secrets she wanted to know.

“Ask any fool around here, and get a different answer.  Mercenaries.  Warriors of honour.  Brothers and sisters of the blade.  Drunken rabble.  Take your pick.  I've been here longer than most of them.  Even I don't know sometimes.  I just hope they don't kill each other.”

“No, I meant-”

“I know what you meant, girl.”  Skjor said swiftly.  “I learned the ways of the blade in the Great War.”  He continued, “Nearly lost my life outside the Imperial City.  I came home to Skyrim when it was all over.  But I wasn't much good at anything other than fighting.”  He paused.

“I know what that’s like.”  Saadia said.

“Yeah, I bet you do.  You’re a warrior down to your bones, girl.”  He said and Saadia nodded.

“So what did you do?”

“Wandered around as a blade for hire.  Was a damned good one, too.  The money was good, and the women were good, and the drinks were good.  But I was losing myself.  My heart.”  He looked at her meaningfully, “I was lucky the Companions found me.  Now there's a reason to be fighting.  The honour of my brothers and sisters is worth more than coin.”  He took a sip of ale, “Of course, the money is still good.  And the drinks!”

“The point of this story is to tell me that this family saved your life… and you will do whatever is in their best interests.”

“That’s right, girl.”

“So… even though you voted with Aela to let me be initiated, and you see my talent and you trust me, you’re still not sure about me…?  At least not with initiation in particular…?”  Saadia figured it out.

“You’re smarter than Farkas I’ll give you that… But that’s not hard.”

“He has his own type of wisdom.”  Saadia answered.

“And loyal too.”  Skjor nodded.  “Now prove your honour.”

“It seems my time has come.”  Saadia said and Skjor snorted with laughter again.

“It seems it has, girl.”  Skjor agreed, “I’ve got something special for you to do.”  He turned to a scroll on the table and opened it, motioning for Saadia to come over.  “Last week a scholar came to us.  He said he knew where we could find another fragment of Wuuthrad.”  Skjor pointed down to the scroll, which seemed to have the information the scholar had been talking about.  “He seemed a fool to me, but if he's right, the honour of the Companions demands that we seek it out.”

“Alright.”  Saadia nodded and looked at the scroll; it had a map to the location of the piece, “I’ll see that it’s in your hands before tomorrow morning.” 

“It’s a simple task, but this is your trial.  Carry yourself with honour and you’ll become a true Companion, and an uninitiated member of the Circle.”  He got up and went to the door, opening it, Farkas and Aela were waiting for him.  “Kodlak has chosen Farkas as your Shield-sibling on this venture, new blood.  He’ll watch you to make sure you act with honour.”

“If you send them together they’ll get killed by draugr when they’re too busy rutting to get the job done.”  Aela rolled her eyes.

“Possibly.”  Skjor said with mirth, “But I follow the Harbinger on this decision.”  He turned to Saadia as Aela shrugged; but it was clear that she had wanted to accompany Saadia.  “He'll answer any questions you have.  Try not to disappoint. Or to get him killed.  Or make him have to carry you back here over his shoulders…”  Skjor said with amusement, “Since it appears you can’t be killed… So he can’t just leave your corpse out there.”

“Can’t make any promises Skjor…”  Saadia said with a straight face and then they all laughed and Skjor clapped her on the back.  “One last thing, what exactly is Wuuthrad?” 

“Wuuthrad is a relic of Ysgramor.  Through that weapon, we trace our line straight to the first harbinger of Humankind in this land.”  Saadia turned to Farkas giving him a look that said ‘I still don’t get it’ and then back to Skjor, “What fragments we have are displayed in honour, but we always seek more.”

“Ask Kodlak, Vignar or even Vilkas if you want more information.”  Aela said, having caught the look Saadia had given Farkas. 

“On your way then.”  Skjor said and motioned for them to leave, Aela entering his room as Saadia left. 

“Close the door?”  Aela said and Saadia closed it as she left. 

“Ready?”  Farkas asked her.

“Oh sure… Let’s prove my honour.”  She said and Farkas gave her a fond smile.

“It’s important to us.”

“I bet.”  She said, still thinking about this Circle and uninitiated business. 

“Alright, first thing; Wuuthrad and Ysgramor are…?”

“Ysgramor was the hero who started the Companions.  Wuuthrad was his weapon.  He came from the ancient homeland and killed all the Elves.”  He said and then seemed to realise something, “But not all of them, because some of them are still here.”  Farkas clarified. 

“Clears everything up.”  Saadia said solemnly, making a note to ask Kodlak later on.  “So… you’re just going to watch me get this fragment of Wuuthrad?” 

“And guide you to where it’s buried.”  He nodded, “That’s it.”

“So you won’t fight by my side…?”  She said seductively.

“I’m not supposed to unless you need the help.”  Farkas said, “which means I won’t be unsheathing my sword.” 

“I like how much faith you have in me.”

“You deserve it.”

“You’re going to fight anyway, even if I don’t need help, aren’t you?”  She asked knowingly.

“Absolutely.”  He answered. 

 

***

 

It was a 2-hour jog to Dustman’s Cairn; the reported location of this shard of Wuuthrad.

It would have gone quicker but the two of them laughed and talked as they ran; it slowed them down. 

The cairn was a raised mound with standing stones around an opening in the ground at the top of the mound.  Stone spiral stairs lead down to a misty bottom, moss clinging to the walls.  Saadia harvested the moss as they headed down the stairs; in payment to Arcadia, she was restocking the alchemist’s shelves of all the herbs she’d used to heal Lucia.  Moss wasn’t on the list, but she was sure Arcadia could use it or sell it anyway. 

At the bottom there was a sacred fire burning and a set of huge black doors, leading underground.  Saadia noticed that they seemed to have the same motif as the last ancient Nordic ruin she’d been to; dragons and other patterns. 

Saadia opened the door, Farkas motioning for her to go first, a grin on his face.

“I’m watching.”  He said and she rolled her eyes, going through the door first.  “Your arse…”  He added and she laughed. 

A stone carved tunnel led downwards; the craftsmanship was beautiful, and the usual swirling patterns could be found on everything. 

“Candles have been lit.”  Saadia noticed.

“And it looks like someone’s been digging around here… and recently.”  Farkas noted and nudged a half-eaten apple with his foot; the apple hadn’t even begun to brown yet.  “Tread lightly.”

“Yes because I usually tread as heavily as possible.”  Saadia said sarcastically and Farkas smacked her arse playfully.  She gave him a pretend scowl and they both smiled to themselves as they moved forward, looking around carefully. 

“A chest.”  Farkas said with a grin as he saw the treasure chest, “Let’s see what’s in-” He went to open the treasure chest, “It’s locked!”

“Move out of the way whelp.”  Saadia nudged him aside and he watched closely as she picked the lock.

“Sneaky.”  He said and Saadia was reminded viscerally of Vilkas. 

“Sometimes a little sneakiness is a good thing.”  She retorted.

“No it’s a great thing!”  He said as he held up one of the emeralds they’d found in the chest.  “You have to teach me that.” 

“If you can keep your mouth off my kunte for long enough.”  She teased.

“Not likely.”  He answered seriously.  They shared another laugh, enjoying the feel of working a job together; hopefully they’d draw weapons together.  “Come on.”  He said and they moved on to the next room of the cairn. 

Huge burial stones loomed up ahead of them and Saadia stopped, there was a dead draugr on the floor.  She drew her warhammer and Farkas knelt to look at the draugr.

“I really hate draugr.”  Saadia said.

“Me too.”  Farkas said, but he looked at her with mirth in his eyes, “Be careful around the burial stones. I don’t want to haul you back to Jorrvaskr on my back.”  He mimicked Skjor and they both started laughing.  “As if you need my help.”  He shook his head. 

“Well you be careful Farkas, I wasn’t gifted with your strength, I don’t know if I could haul you back to Whiterun!” 

“You’d do it.”  He said simply, showing complete faith and trust in her. 

“You’re right.”  She said and they kissed gently.  “But focus.”  She said and turned back to the burial stones, warhammer in her hands.  Farkas unsheathed his greatsword and followed her. 

As they walked through the burial stones; the skeletons and dead draugr stacked up on their bunk-bed like resting places, she heard the familiar sound of a draugr speaking. 

“Damn it to Oblivion.”  She whispered as she peered around the corner and saw that the entire passage ahead of them was swarming with draugr. 

“I’ve never seen one of them walking before…”  Farkas said and shrugged, “Let’s make them stop walking.”  He added.

“You don’t come to the burial sites often eh?”

“Usually bandit hideouts and things like that.”  He said, “First burial site.” 

“It’s a Nord thing isn’t it?”  She asked.

“You have to respect the dead.”  He answered simply.

“Are you going to respect those dead?”  She nodded towards the unsuspecting draugr.

“I’ll respect them by making them dead again; as they should be.”  He answered. 

“By bludgeoning them?”  She asked, enjoying the way Farkas was.

“You know me well, Saadia.”  He said with a devilish grin. 

“Well let’s honour some beloved ancestors then shall we?”  She said before they both rushed into the room, taking the draugr by surprise and downing most of them very quickly. 

Surprisingly, one of them had an ice spell, but when it tried to freeze Farkas, he broke out of the ice and cut its head off. 

Saadia found herself turned on by his strength and had to work to focus her mind on taking out the archers. 

After a short skirmish they continued on, past a small wooden door and down another corridor into a large cavernous room. 

They edged into the room slowly, waiting for an ambush, or some other unexpected trap. 

But the room was empty, the way forward barred with a metal gate.  Saadia peered through the gate at the corridor and then looked around the room for a way to open the gate.

In her experience there should be some sort of trapped way to get through; with pictures of animals to match up and levers to pull… but there seemed to be none of that here.

She found a small room off to the side, an ebony shelf with bottles, filled with a luminescent red potion; health potions.  She went into the room and picked up the potions while Farkas went back to check the corridor they’d just come from to see if there was anything in there to open the gate. 

She searched around the room and found an old skeleton and went through its bag, taking its armour.  Someone had died in this little room.  Up the back she found a mossy alcove and as she cut some moss for Arcadia, she noticed a rusted lever.

“I think I found it!”  She called back to Farkas who had just re-entered the large room.  She pulled the lever and then spun when she heard a loud grating behind her; a gate had just shut, locking her in the small room. 

Farkas walked up to the gate and leaned his forearms on it, his hands sticking through the holes in the gate.  He grinned in at her. 

“Now look what you’ve gotten yourself into.”  He teased.

“Ugh.”  Saadia said as she pulled the lever back the other way but nothing happened. 

“It opened the other gate when it closed this one.”  He told her. 

“There’s probably a lever on the other side that’ll open this one and close that one again.”  Saadia sighed, and walked up to him, lacing her fingers through his, “It’s the puzzle.  There’s always a puzzle to solve with Nordic ruins.”

He leaned his forehead on the gate and she leaned forward.  They kissed through the gate and he stroked her face.

“Well as nice as this little break has been, I’ll see if I can find that lever and get you out of there.”  He said.  But as he moved his head away, Saadia saw an axe, swinging through the air - aimed at Farkas’s neck.

“DUCK!”  She cried out and Farkas reacted instantly, the axe smashing against the gate just in front of Saadia’s eyes, denting the metal, just above Farkas’s head. 

The man who had swung the axe backed up as Farkas stood up and turned to see 30 people surrounding him. 

Saadia got her bow and arrows out, but he reached his fingers through the gate to her.  She took them.  There was no way he could beat 30 well-armed bandits like this.  They were organised, good quality armour and weapons; not like the usual bandit scum they fought as Companions. 

“I’m sorry Saadia.”  He whispered to her and she suddenly realised she was probably going to watch him be killed by these bandits. 

“No… No…”  She gripped his fingers tighter through the gate.

“I’m sorry for this.”  He said and pulled his fingers away from her.

Saadia took a deep breath, focussing her mind and aimed her bow and arrow through the gate, but with his body in front of her, she could offer very little help at the moment. 

One of them was obviously the leader; he wore the best armour and he was standing to the side of Farkas with a smug look on his face. 

Saadia drew a bead on the leader, hoping that her archery skill wouldn’t let her down, and that with their leader dead they might scatter.  As soon as Farkas moved, she’d be able to get a decent shot of him… and she’d kill him if she could. 

“It’s time to die, dog!”  One of them said.

“We knew you’d be coming here!”  Another told them.

“I wonder which one he is?”  The first one asked.

“It doesn’t matter; he wears that armour, he’s dead.”  The leader replied, “Killing you will make for an excellent story.”  He said to Farkas.  Farkas knew that the wolf insignia that all the Circle members wore was what had made them notice him. 

“None of you will be alive to tell it.”  Farkas answered and the bandits laughed.

Saadia loved his courage; how brave he was in the face of-

And then he stretched his arms out, dropping his sword.  Saadia stepped back as she noticed that he was suddenly growing taller, hair… no fur… sprouting out of his arms, his armour being absorbed by his body as more fur sprouted out of his back.

“What…?”  She asked and stumbled further back.

It took less than 10 seconds, and where Farkas had once stood, there was a living legend; a myth… something Saadia didn’t believe in... a werewolf. 

 


	6. Part 6

Farkas howled loudly, and the bandits and Saadia clasped their hands to their ears, fear surging through their blood. 

He lunged forward, his huge hands, with razor sharp claws ripping the face off two people at the same time.  He picked the next person up by the neck and literally ripped his head off.  Saadia stumbled back away from the gate and watched in numb shock as blood and entrails flew everywhere; bandits screaming in fear and agony.  The leader stabbed his blade right through the werewolf, but he simply picked the leader up and threw him against the wall and reefed the sword out of his chest, throwing it down before grabbing the next bandit with his jaws and shaking his head until the bandit flew apart into ragged pieces. 

In only a few minutes, all the bandits were dead, bloody puddles and vital organs all over the floor.

And then the werewolf turned to her.

“No…”  Saadia backed up until her back touched the back wall in the little room, as the werewolf stalked towards her and laced his huge claws through the gate.  He gave a low grumbling growl… a growl she recognised because she’d heard Vilkas do it. 

“By the Gods…”  She understood now. 

He growled again, and made a soft, almost barking noise and Saadia realised he was calling her to him. 

She didn’t know if she could trust him; would he just try to kill her too?  She wondered if he could just rip the gate apart and get to her no matter what she did…

He did that growl again; she recognised it as a growl of invitation. 

An invitation to do what?

“Farkas?”  Her voice was shaky and the werewolf made a soft barking sound.  She stepped forward and again he made that growling sound. 

But she couldn’t bring herself to step any closer to the beast; his hair was matted with blood and he stood in the entrails of 30 dead people… he was deadly.  He could kill her, and all the training she’d ever had taught her to be wary of things that she knew could kill her. 

And then his size finally started to shrink, the fur seeming to draw into his flesh, his armour appearing but clattering to the ground. 

Farkas gripped the gate as his knees gave way momentarily before he managed to get himself back upright, panting, covered in blood still.  He stumbled backwards and took a deep breath, looking down at his hands. 

“I’m back.”  He said, “Sometimes the Beastblood makes you work to come back.”  He said to Saadia, who was still at the back of the room. “I hope I didn’t scare you too badly.”  He came back to the gate, completely naked, and laced his fingers through the holes, looking in at her.  “I’m so sorry Saadia.”  He whispered to her. 

“What…?”  Saadia couldn’t even find words for it… her mind was clicking puzzle pieces together; their strength, Vilkas’s ability to smell her, Farkas’s insistence that she not be a member of the Circle… “Are the Circle…?”

“It’s a gift.”  Farkas said, “Given to some of us; we can become like wild beasts.  Fearsome.”  He told her, “Although Kodlak says it’s a curse…”  He explained and Saadia understood the voting lines now; Skjor and Aela thought this was a gift and they wanted to give that gift to her.  But Kodlak and Vilkas, and therefore Farkas, thought it was a curse… Although Farkas had just called it a gift. 

“You’re going to make me a werewolf…?”  She was thinking about Aela now. 

“Oh no…”  Farkas said, trying to comfort her, “No… only initiated members of the Circle-”

“That’s why you didn’t want me in the Circle…”  She said and he nodded.  “Does everyone know?”  She asked.

“No.  It’s a secret to everybody.”  He said.  “Only the initiated know.” 

“By the Gods…”  She thought of what he’d said to her in the past, “If you know, you’re in or you’re dead…”  She whispered.

“I won’t tell anyone you know.”  Farkas answered her fears. 

“Who were those people?”  She said looking at the carnage around him.

“The Silver-Hand.  A group of very bad people who don’t like werewolves… they’re professional werewolf hunters… when they found out about us… they started trying to hunt us too.” 

“You… nearly went feral…”  Saadia was again going over past conversations in her mind. 

“No, I had it under control, if I had been feral, I’d have torn through the gate and killed you too.”  He said.

“I mean… when they first turned you.”  She said.

“Oh…” He nodded slowly, “Some people take to Beastblood better than others.”  He admitted, “The strength, the power, the speed, I can smell everything, if I taste the air and I can taste the pulse of my prey… hear its blood pumping in its veins… it’s… nice being in beast form.”  He kept his eyes on her.  “But you gotta keep your mind, or else… you stay in beast form.” 

“It’s dangerous.”  Saadia understood.

“Can be.”  Farkas acknowledged, “But I’ve got it under control.  Not even our fight brought it out in me.”  He noted, trying to make her feel more secure.

“But it did in Vilkas…?”

“Yeah…”  Farkas said slowly, “But that growl wasn’t… you weren’t in danger.”  He said uncomfortably. 

“What was that growl Vilkas did?”

“I can’t tell you what was in my brother’s mind, only that you weren’t in any danger.”  Farkas said, “You’d have to ask him.”

“But then he’ll know I know.”  Saadia said and Farkas groaned.

“Alright,” He said reluctantly, “it was a mating growl.”

“What?”  Saadia was astounded. 

“Sex for werewolves is often very violent, and a good fight can sometimes bring out the urge to mate in us; it happens to all of us.”  He said, “He didn’t mean anything by it.  Skjor’s growled at Kodlak like that before when they were brawling, and Skjor doesn’t rut with men.” 

Saadia stared at him in complete surprise for a long moment.

“I don’t even know what to say.”  Saadia felt numb again.

“Are you feeling safe enough for me to let you out of there yet?”  He asked.

“Alright…”  She wasn’t so sure of her answer, but she couldn’t stay in here forever… and it was Farkas.  Sweet, kind Farkas who saved sabre cat cubs and let Lucia plait his hair…

“Alright.”  He said and he walked off, his bare feet padding on the cold stones. 

A few minutes later the gate lifted and Saadia stayed in the room, she slowly crept out, looking for Farkas but heard a huge grinding sound of metal screeching against stone.  She looked over at the corridor that had been gated and saw a werewolf on the other side of the gate, tearing through the gate.  She felt her pulse start to race and she pulled out her warhammer, ready to meet her death on her feet. 

But as soon as he was through the gate he stood still, watching her, and made the soft growl.

“That gate closed when the lever opened my gate?”  She asked, wondering if he could understand her in that form.

He nodded his huge shaggy head and made a soft barking sound again as he approached her slowly.  She raised her warhammer, letting him know she was ready.  He towered over her, and she looked up at him, wondering if she could trust him.  He reached out and touched her face gently, and then she saw his form begin to shrink again, and a moment later, a naked Farkas was stumbling back.  It took him a bit longer to get his bearings, and he had to drink a lot of water before he could say anything coherent.

“It’s best not to turn too often, or too close together.”  He explained eventually.

“It’s harder to come back.”  She understood. 

“But I’ll never hurt you, no matter what form I’m in.”  He said.

“Unless you’re challenged to fight me in a brawl.”  She answered jokingly and he gave her an ashamed look; he still hadn’t forgiven himself for that, even though he’d lost the fight.

“I didn’t mean to hit you.”  He told her, “I aimed for your eye because I thought it’d give you a better chance to see it coming; thought you’d duck.”  He said. 

“My mind wasn’t in the right place.”  She admitted.  “Once I focussed…”

“It was much harder to hit you.”  He understood.

“You better get your armour back on.”  She said, starting to feel less shaky, her mind still not sure what to make of all of this. 

“Are you sure?  I could stay naked if-”

“Now is not the time for sex Farkas-”

“I meant that it’s easier to kill me with no armour and no weapon.”  He said, “If you don’t feel safe.” 

She paused and stared at him for a long moment.

“Put your armour on.”  She said eventually, “I can kill you even with it on.”  She declared and he laughed, pleased she was feeling more confident again, “I can kill you if you turn.”  She tried to convince herself.

“I won’t turn again today.”  He shook his head, and put his clothing and armour back on.  He handed her his greatsword; a Sky Forge steel sword, it did a lot more damage than her warhammer.  “That’ll help you take me down if you feel the need.”  He said, picking up one of the silver greatswords the Silver-Hand used. 

“I can’t take this…”  She was in awe of its beauty and the craftsmanship of it.

“Keep it.”  He shrugged, “I’ll get another one.”

He stepped up to the mangled door, going first.  He had been right in assuming that Saadia wouldn’t want him behind her any more. 

They headed down the corridor, to find more Silver-Hand waiting in the next room.

Saadia fought alongside Farkas, killing every last one of them, feeling an odd kind of vindication; they’d tried to kill Farkas…

When it was done Saadia looted their bodies for gold and sellable items, Farkas watching her, his eyes still showing concern and fear; fear that she would never look at him the same way. 

Saadia turned to the burial urns and opened one to find gold and gems inside.

“Oh…”  Farkas said and shook his head, “burial urns?” 

“You’re a werewolf!”  She shot back, “You don’t get to judge me - I have a kid to feed!” 

“Alright.”  He answered and held his hands up in supplication, letting her search the burial urns in peace, saying a silent prayer to Arkay for forgiveness. 

They continued through the corridors, finding and killing the occasional Silver-Hand warrior, until they came to a large open room.  On the table was a werewolf that was tied down, it had been tortured to death, its entrails pouring out of its stomach, its snout frozen in a dead howl, the stench of its rotting flesh filling the room. 

“A gift for me.”  Farkas said as he went up to the werewolf and put a hand on its arm.  “Probably feral.”  He took a deep breath, “No one I know, but… still…”

“They still feel like kin?”  She asked and he nodded slowly looking down at the werewolf. 

“They tortured her hours.”  He picked up the silver dagger and looked at it, seeing the cuts this weapon had inflicted on the werewolf.  He tossed the dagger down and turned away in disgust. 

Saadia stared at the mangled werewolf corpse on the table, wondering how this felt for Farkas, but feeling deeply concerned; this could have been someone she counted as her family now, they could have gotten to Farkas, Aela… the old man Kodlak. 

“They are very serious about hating werewolves.”  She muttered.

“Yes they are.”  Farkas didn’t turn back to her, he had no desire to see the tortured werewolf, smelling her was bad enough, “The thing is, there’s no danger from those of us that have it under control.”  He said, “And we understand the need to control the feral population; we even partake of a monthly hunt to give our feral werewolf-kin a quick and honourable death, to control their numbers so that our Human-kin can be safe.”  He told her, “That’s actually where Vilkas and I were, not Markarth.”  He admitted.

“I see.”  She answered, nodding slowly, taking in the lies she’d been told. 

“I’m sorry.”  He said again and she shook her head.  He looked back at the werewolf.  “They don’t need to do this.”  His eyes lingered on her dead, howling face. 

“No they don’t.”  Saadia agreed, “No one deserves this.”  She told him, “I know who the bad guys are here.” 

He looked up at her, grateful for her words. 

“We better move on.  Eyes on the prey, not the horizon.”  He said meaningfully.  She’d heard almost everyone in the Circle say that over the past few weeks, “Come on, I’m sure there’s lots of draugr and Silver-Hand still to kill.” 

They continued on their path, Farkas still ahead, Saadia with her greatsword held high.

Like all ancient Nord burial ruins, there were endless winding corridors, always heading down, infested with draugr and this time, Silver-Hand as well; the draugr strangely not attacking the Silver-hand.  After an hour of cutting down their enemies, they were covered in blood and grime, but Saadia was sure they were on the right path; something was down here. 

They rounded a corner and Farkas was walking, ahead, his eyes on the door across the room.

And Saadia saw his foot land on the trap plate. 

She tackled him to the side just as a huge steel mace swung down from the roof with brutal force. 

Farkas watched it with wide open eyes.

“That would have taken my head clean off.”  He whispered.  He turned to look at her, “You saved my life.” 

“I know what these ruins are like!”  She said, but his lips were on hers, kissing her passionately. 

And part of her yielded to him, to his desire for her… for her continued desire for him… but part of her was wary, scared and hurt…

She pushed him away. 

“Eyes on the prey.”  She reminded him and she saw the pain in his eyes before she turned away and got up.  He knew she was unsure about him now. 

“Of course.”  He said and got up instantly. 

They continued on without another word, Saadia beginning to feel a bit of a pull forwards. 

Farkas opened the next door to find an ambush of Silver-Hand waiting for them. 

15 or so people, running at them with their silver greatswords held high. 

“And then Saadia remembered that she had a power that she hadn’t been using this whole time…

“Get behind me.”  She said to Farkas, who hesitated.  “NOW!”  He did as he was told and Saadia took a deep breath and Shouted

“FUS!”  The Dragon word for Force. 

Farkas gasped when most of the Silver-Hand were picked up and thrown backwards, with only the strongest able to resist the power of her voice, but even they stagged back. 

“Come on!”  She said and they rushed forward; killing them all was easy now, with only the few that had stayed on their feet putting up a fight. 

“That’s some power.”  He said when they had finished killing everyone in the room.

“I told you it’d blow down the wall of my house.”  She laughed. 

“They say Ulfric killed the High King with the power of his Voice…”  Farkas said.

“So I’ve heard.”  Saadia answered, “I’m nowhere near powerful enough to kill someone with my Voice alone.”  She said, “Maybe he’s the Dragonborn?” 

“Maybe you just have to visit the Greybeards.”  He answered.

“Ugh, not you too.”  She said and rolled her eyes.  “I’ll go!”  She said with a frustrated tone, “Now come on!”  She went forward without waiting to see if Farkas was following; she felt a sharper pull forward now.  She had to keep moving. 

After another 30 minutes of scrambling through crumbling ruins, fighting off innumerable draugr and skeevers, Farkas sighed in frustration.

“How big are these things?”  He asked her.

“Big.”  She answered, “This one’s good though.”  She told him, still moving forward, “No swinging axes.”  He raised his eyebrows, “Yet.”  She added.  “But I know we’re on the right track… it’s getting closer, I can feel it.”  She told him.

“You can feel it?”  He asked and she turned to him.

“I think there’s another Word down here.”  She said.

“Word?”

“A Dragon Word.” 

“A Dragon W-” He suddenly understood what she meant, “You feel those?  What if we miss it?”  He looked around, not sure what he was looking for.

“We won’t miss it.”  She laughed at the way he was looking around for it.  “They call to me; I can hear them, they pull me in…”

“They call to you?”

“Sounds crazy, I know.”  Saadia sighed. 

“No, I understand.”  He said, “The Beastblood, the hunt – it calls to me.” 

She stared at him for a moment.

“I’m not sure if it’s the same.”  She said, “When the Words call… I can’t resist.” 

“Do you want to resist?”

“I did the first time; I was scared, I didn’t know what was happening… but not this time.  This time I want that Word.” 

He grinned at her.

“Then let’s go get it.”  He nodded for her to continue and she turned and led the way. 

She opened the door and groaned.

“Frostbite spiders.”  She said seeing all the webs. 

Farkas felt a shudder of revulsion go down his spine; he hated spiders, but he could handle it. 

And then a giant frostbite spider descended from the roof, huge and bulbous, it fangs bigger than his forearm, dripping poison, and he froze to the spot.  He’d never seen a spider that big before…

Saadia ran in, slicing at the spider’s legs, vile, green blood exploding everywhere, the spider spitting poison at her, which she dodged deftly. 

“FUS!”  she yelled at the spider and it was staggered.  Farkas watched, unable to move… and then all around Saadia, dozens more of those giant nightmares descended from the roof on their thin thread…

“Gods no!”  He said to himself as they descended upon her.  He couldn’t leave her to battle them alone… “AAAAARRRRGGGHGGHHHHHH!!!!!”  Farkas roared as he made himself run into battle, hacking at the spiders, green blood and hairy limbs flying everywhere.  He lunged his greatsword up into the abdomen of a spider and filthy green goo gushed out all over his face and torso.  He screamed the entire time as he hacked and sliced at the spiders, killing several before they managed to even figure out what in Oblivion was going on.

“Farkas!”  He turned to her, completely covered in green slime, his whole body shaking, his throat sore.  “It’s alright, they’re all dead.”  He turned back to the spider he’d been killing; it was in dozens of pieces… he’d been hacking at its dead body.

“Oh thank the Gods.”  He panted gratefully, “Disgusting things.”  He shuddered and turned back to her, wiping spider blood from his face, “Let’s go… can we go now?”  He said quickly, “Ready to go.”

“You alright?”

“Yeah, just ready to move on.”  He answered with a big anxious smile. 

“Alright, let’s go.”  She agreed and they left the room, Farkas looking back over his shoulder and shuddering in revulsion again. 

The ruins opened up to a cave with a waterfall and running river through it, filled with draugr.  Saadia thought of the room almost exactly like this in the last ancient Nordic ruins she’d been in where she’d been forced to creep past the draugr due to her injuries.

Not this time.

“FUS!”  She Shouted, and charged in, Farkas following, making short work of the draugr infestation in this room. 

And she kept running, Farkas following, the pull was incredibly intense.

“We’re close!”  She told him, throwing open another black door, to reveal a huge cavern… and she heard it… the chanting.  “Can you hear it?”  She whispered to Farkas.

“I can’t hear anything.”  He said, his eyes on her.  The room looked like any other huge room in these rooms, except there was a strange curved wall up ahead and a sarcophagus in front of it.

“That’s it.”  She pointed at the wall.  “That’s the word… it’s calling to me…”  She whispered and stepped forward.

“Woah.”  Farkas stopped her.  “Have you seen the draugr resting places all around the room?”  He said pointing out the dozens of sarcophagi lining the walls.  “What’s to bet that the minute you get near that wall a hundred draugr are going to come to take your head off.”  She nodded, understanding what he was saying, but unable to take her eyes off the Wall.  He noticed her inattention, “These Walls are a death trap to you.”  He said and shook her gently.  She turned to look at him.

“I have to go to the Wall.”  She said.

“I know… but we do it slowly and carefully, alright?”

Saadia took a deep breath and made herself focus.

“You’re right.”  She said, “Slow and steady.  But it’s hard to focus when the Wall’s calling me.”  She took another deep breath. 

“You alright?”

“I’m alright.”  She raised her greatsword, her warhammer was sitting safely on her back. 

They edged into the room slowly, cautiously eyeing the big ebony sarcophagi. 

But nothing happened, even as they took the stairs to the platform with the sarcophagus that stood in front of the Word Wall. 

Farkas could see the shard of Wuuthrad on top of the sarcophagus, and he wasn’t sure what was going to trigger this ambush; Saadia getting the Word, or him taking the shard…

He waited and watched her approach the Wall, she gasped and walked as if in a daze.

He saw nothing but Saadia staring at the Wall…

And then suddenly he heard a faint chant, in the ancient Nord language and he saw faint tendrils of pure light reaching out from the wall to Saadia.  He reached out his hand and put his fingers into the light, but nothing happened. 

She gasped and staggered backwards, looking up at the roof as if she had a sudden nosebleed, her mouth open, her body panting.  She turned to look at him.

“I know the Word.”  She said.

“What is it?”

“I… I don’t know… it’s inert, I can’t get at it.”  She said frustrated, “I need to kill another Dragon, to take its power… that makes it so I can speak the Word.”  She explained.

“Vilkas said the Dragonborn consumes the Dragon’s soul.”  Farkas said and Saadia nodded.

“That sounds right.”  She said, “Its very soul is what makes me understand these Words so I can say them.”  She ran her fingers along the Wall, the language scratched into it alien and familiar to her, completely alien to Farkas.  “Did you see anything?”

“I saw some light coming out of the Wall into you.”  he said.

“But the Word didn’t glow for you?  And the rest of the world didn’t go dim?”

“No.”  He shook his head, “I think I may have heard some chanting for a moment…?”  He said, “But I’m not sure.”

“The Walls chant with power.”  She agreed and turned to the sarcophagi. 

They both looked at the shard.

“As soon as we touch it…” Farkas said.

“Every draugr in the room’s gonna come at us.”  She agreed and picked it up without hesitating.  “We can take them.”  She said as the first lid exploded of a sarcophagus.  Dozens of similar explosions went off, the sound of draugr waking up filled the air as angry glowing eyes glared at them. 

Farkas started to laugh.

“Easy!”  He declared and raised his sword.

The draugr were piled high around the room by the time they’d finished, both of them exhausted with the slaughter.

They found a tunnel behind a sarcophagus that led out through a hidden door back to the entrance of the cairn.  They climbed the spiral staircase and stood staring towards Whiterun, silence growing between.  A silence that was new to them. 

“We should get back to Jorrvaskr.”  He said softly and she nodded.

“Yeah.” 

They set off at a run.

 

***

 

When they got back to Jorrvaskr Vilkas was sitting at the great table, awaiting their return. 

She took the shard of Wuuthrad out and Vilkas looked at it, with awe, he looked back up at her and then at his brother who nodded; telling him that Saadia had acted with honour.

“Follow me.”  Vilkas said.

He led them out to the courtyard where other members of the Circle waited; Skjor, Aela, and Kodlak. 

Vilkas handed the shard to Kodlak and he smiled at Saadia, obviously never doubting that she would succeed.

Saadia stood before these people, knowing them all to be werewolves and had no idea what to say, or how to act around them anymore. 

But Kodlak looked at the other members of the Circle and they each nodded in turn.

“Brothers and Sisters of the Circle,” He said holding up his arms, the shard of Wuuthrad in one of his hands, “today we welcome a new soul into our mortal fold.”  His eyes fell onto Saadia, “This woman has endured, has challenged and has showed her valour.”  Despite everything, Saadia felt a well of pride that the old man would say these things about her, “Who will speak for her?” 

Farkas stood forward. 

“I stand witness for the courage of the soul before us.”  He said solemnly. 

“Would you raise your shield in her defence?”  Kodlak asked.

“I would stand at her back, that the world might never overtake us.”  Farkas said and then turned his eyes to Saadia. 

“And would you raise your sword in her honour?”  Kodlak asked and Farkas turned his face back to the old man.

“It stands ready to meet the blood of her foes.”  He answered fiercely.

“And would you raise a mug in her name?”  Kodlak asked with a warm smile.

“I would lead the song of triumph as our mead hall revelled in her stories.”  Farkas replied.

“Then the judgment of this Circle is complete.  Her heart beats with the fury and courage that have united the Companions since the days of the distant green summers.”  His eyes turned to Saadia and he held his hand out to her.  “Let it beat with ours, so the mountains may echo and our enemies may tremble at the call.”

Saadia hesitated, not sure if she wanted to join the Circle anymore, even as an uninitiated member… But somehow the old man’s kind face drew her in, and she found herself stepping forward and taking his hand.

“It shall be so.”  The brothers, Skjor and Aela answered. 

And that was it; she was now a member of the Circle, able to give out work to the whelps, able to take part in decision making, to attend meetings of the Circle… and keeper of a deep secret that most of the Circle didn’t even know she knew. 

 

***

 

Saadia lay in bed for most of the next day, Lydia studiously ignoring this change in mood from her Thane.  She simply kept Lucia busy and brought food up to her periodically. 

That night the Jarl was hosting a play in the castle, and Lydia decided to take Lucia to see it, Saadia giving her blessing for them to go.  She needed some peace and quiet to think things through.

The family she had now… were werewolves.

Almost as soon as Lydia and Lucia were gone there was a knock on the door.

She sighed and got up, trudging downstairs, wearing a thin, short tunic, her hair loose and hanging down to her waist.

It was Farkas. 

“Can we talk?”  He asked and she shook her head.

“No I don’t think so.”  She answered softly.  “At least not yet.  I need time to think Farkas.  I need time for all of this to just sink in.” 

“I’m so sorr-”

“Please stop saying sorry.”  She said, “I understand why you didn’t tell me, and there’s no point in being sorry for being a werewolf, or for turning into one when you did – it did save your life.”  She reminded him, “There’s nothing to say sorry for anymore, and it doesn’t help me figure all of this out.” 

“I’m s-” He stopped himself and sighed.  “I don’t know what else to say.”  He lowered his eyes, looking shamed.

“Please just go.”  She said and he looked up at her, anguished.

“Alright.”  He whispered, clearly not wanting to, “If that’s what you want.”

“That’s what I want.”  Saadia said, “Just leave me alone… I need time.” 

He nodded and stepped back, looking like he wanted to say more, but he didn’t.  He turned away and heard the door close. 

He walked back to Jorrvaskr with his shoulders slumped. 

As soon as he got home he headed downstairs and went into his brother’s room.

Vilkas was stretched out in bed, reading, and he gave his brother a dirty look when he simply plopped down on his bed, hunched over, staring off. 

“What happened this time?”  Vilkas asked, looking back at his book, “Did you find out a deer you killed had a fawn?”  He asked in a kind tone. 

“I have to tell you something brother.”  Farkas said.

“Yes I know.”  Vilkas answered, his eyes still skimming the book.

“And you have to promise you won’t get angry.”  Farkas continued and Vilkas looked up from his book.

“Every time you say that, you deserve my anger.”  Vilkas noted. 

“I turned in front of Saadia.”  Farkas answered and Vilkas shot up in bed.

“What in Oblivion?”  He spat out angrily.

“You promised you wouldn’t get angry!”  Farkas said defensively. 

“No, I said you deserve my anger!”  Vilkas said and got up and closed the door, “What in Oblivion where you thinking?”  He asked.

“The Silver-Hand set up a trap for me.  They separated Saadia into a caged room and surrounded me… there were 30 of them, brother.  I had no choice.” 

“By the Gods.”  Vilkas sat down on the bed with a thud.  “What if she tells the Jarl that his city has been harbouring werewolves for hundreds of years?”

“She won’t.”

“He’ll send the guard, they’ll burn down Jorrvaskr; the whelps will be killed, and we’ll either have to flee our home or kill half of Whiterun, and then half to the Imperial army when they come to the aid of Whiterun…”  Vilkas said in an alarmed tone.

“She won’t tell anyone.”

“You can’t know that!”

“I know her.”  Farkas said firmly.  “She wouldn’t do that.” 

“We have to turn her…”  Vilkas sounded bitterly disappointed.

“No we don’t.”  Farkas said, “She won’t tell anyone.”

“I think you’ve let your feelings for her get the better of your judgment Farkas.”

“Vilkas!”  Farkas snapped, “Do you really think she’ll tell the Jarl?” 

The brothers stared at each other for a long moment, Vilkas ticking over everything he knew of Saadia.

“No.”  He said eventually.  He sighed and put his head in his hands.  “So what do we do now?”

“That’s why I’m here.”  Farkas said, “She doesn’t want to see me ever again.”  He said.  “She told me she needed time…”  He looked down miserably.

“Alright which is it; She never wants to see you again, or she needs time?”  Vilkas asked, “What did she actually say?”

“That she needs time.”

“Then give it to her.  I can’t imagine what it was like seeing you turn without warning.”  He said shaking his head.  “Does she know that the Circle is all-”

“Yes.”  Farkas said, “I told her… a bit more than I should have.”

“You should have stopped yourself Farkas, why did you tell her about all of us?”

“Just like you shouldn’t have started to lose control in your fight with her and do a mating growl to her.”  Farkas said and Vilkas looked down awkwardly.  “That’s what started her curiosity.”  Farkas said, “Your super strength and your eyes turning amber and you growling at her…”  Farkas accused.

“Yes but I didn’t turn in front of her.”  He said sourly.  There was a moment of silence, Vilkas’s mind racing.   “It wasn’t really a mating-”

“I heard it!”  Farkas said and Vilkas snapped his mouth shut and looked away.

“It was just because of the heat of battle…”

“I know, you don’t have to go on about it.”  Farkas said.  “I remember Skjor growling at Kodlak.” 

Vilkas suddenly laughed.  And Farkas shook his head and then laughed too.

“Remember Skjor’s face when he turned back!”  Vilkas laughed. 

“He was so embarrassed.”

“And the old man wouldn’t let him hear the end of it!” 

“Well Skjor never let any of us forget it when we growled like that!”  Farkas had received a lot of teasing from Skjor in that regard, “Seemed only fair for the old man to give him the same!”

The brothers laughed merrily until their troubles caught up with them again. 

“Will you talk to her for me brother?”  Farkas asked vulnerably. 

“Oh I don’t think that will help.”  Vilkas answered honestly.

“You are better at words than me.”  Farkas said.

“Yes but Saadia hates me.”  Vilkas explained.

“No she doesn’t.”  Farkas said simply.

“You’re mistaken.”

“I know what hate looks like on her; she hates her father.”  Farkas said.  “She doesn’t hate you.”

“Well she dislikes me then.”

“Brother please.”  Farkas said and Vilkas sighed.

“Alright.  I’ll go now.”  He said, “She’ll just tell me to go too.”

He got up and put a tunic on.

“Thank you.”  Farkas said as his brother left, waving off his gratitude.

Vilkas sighed with agitation as he went down the stairs from Jorrvaskr, heading out into Whiterun, his hands in the pockets of his leather pants, his light, lose fitting tunic feeling strange; he was used to, and much preferred, his tighter fitting and heavier armour.

He looked down at the tunic and saw a mead stain on the chest.  He rolled his eyes and scratched at it with his thumbnail, banging into someone because he was so focussed on the stain.  It was Brenuin.

“Sorry my friend.”  Vilkas said.

“Can you spare a coin?”  Brenuin asked and Vilkas felt his pockets; empty.

“I left my coins at home.”  Vilkas said to the town drunk, “But if you go up to Jorrvaskr, they’ll make you a warm meal.”  Vilkas said, “Tell them Vilkas sent you.”

“Thank you Companion.”  Brenuin said and hurried off towards Jorrvaskr.  Vilkas looked up at the twin moons in the night sky as he tried to think of what he might possibly say to Saadia.

Before he knew it, he was at her door. 

He stood there, looking at the door, his brows furrowed, his thumbnail still scratching at the mead stain, his other hand straightening out his hair. 

“Alright Vilkas…”  He said to himself.  But he didn’t know what to say to himself about what he was going to do; it was being done for his brother and no other reason.  He sighed again and knocked on the door.

A few moments later she opened the door and Vilkas completely forgot what he had to say.

“I didn’t know your hair was that long.”  He said, noticing it falling in waves down her back, some of it over her shoulder.  He followed the hair down her shoulder, over her breast and then saw her tunic was thin and short, her long, muscular legs were bare. 

“I keep it braided.”  She answered, “What do you want?”

Vilkas looked up from her legs to her eyes, those mismatched eyes, always filled with so many things he couldn’t quite read.  He sighed heavily.

“You know why I’m here.”  He said and she sighed too.  “Can I come in?”  He hadn’t expected himself to ask that, and he really hadn’t expected that she’d let him in; but she did. 

She sat down in front of the firepit, and put the book she’d been reading on the floor. 

“Do you want a drink?  Help yourself.”  She pointed at the kitchen.

“No I’m fine.”  He said and was about to sit down when he thought better of it.  “Actually I’ll have a mead?”

“Fine.”

He went to the kitchen cupboard and found the mead, taking a bottle out, he took a long drink before he settled in to the other chair in front of the fire.

“Your brother has sat naked in that chair.”  Saadia told him and Vilkas stared at her for a moment before shrugging.

“If was going to not sit on any furniture my brother had sat naked on, I’d never sit again.”  He answered and Saadia gave a slight laugh. 

“So now what?”  She asked, sipping her water. 

“What do you mean?”

“Are you going to turn me or kill me?”  She turned her eyes to him, she looked betrayed, “He told you… he said he wouldn’t…”

“To be fair he tells me everything.”  Vilkas said, “He thought he had Cockrot when he was 17 and showed me his cock; it was just a pimple.”  He illustrated his point. 

“I thought cockrot was a myth?”  She asked and Vilkas nodded.

“It is.”  Saadia began to laugh and Vilkas shook his head and chuckled.  “Sometimes he just doesn’t know what to do, so he comes to me… and he doesn’t know what to do now.”

“I asked for time.”  She said.

“I told him to give you time.”  Vilkas said, “But you know he’s not a patient man.” 

“Well too bad.”  Saadia shrugged.

“I agree.”  He answered.

They sat in silence for a while.

“Is my daughter safe around him?”  She asked, “Is she safe around any of you?”  Saadia turned her eyes to him and Vilkas looked sad. 

“I could never hurt that child.”  He said honestly, “You and your daughter are in no danger from us.”  He said, “There’ll be no kill her or turn her decision.” 

“You won’t tell the others?”

“I won’t.”  Vilkas said, “But you should.”

“But then… then what happens.”

“I don’t know.”  He admitted, “We’ve always been better at keeping this secret than this.”  He said.  “I know that Aela and Skjor still want to turn you… and I know that the old man will be against it.” 

“And what about you?”  She asked him.

“It’s not up to me.”  He answered. 

“What’s it like?”  She asked, “Being a werewolf?”

“Seductive.”  He said simply and she gave him a quizzical look.  “The power of it… It’s easy to want more of it.  It’s addictive.” 

“Like being Dragonborn.”

“You think being Dragonborn can compare to this?”  He asked incredulously, “You have a blessing, this is a curse.”

“Farkas said the Beastblood calls to you.”  She said, “The Dragon Words call to me… to the point that I must have them, I walk into traps to get them, all I can think about is the Word, it calls to me, it reaches to me…”

“Sometimes it is like that with the hunt.”  He admitted.

“Except you can resist it.  And I can’t.”  Saadia said, “Not only because it’s too powerful, but because…”  She looked him square in the eye as she quoted him, “What would any Nord give to be the Dragonborn…”

“I didn’t realise how much pressure it was.”  He said slowly, realising his past words had wounded her.

“But it’s a blessing… to have been born so that you can kill Dragonkind… to have everyone around you think that you’ll somehow save them all from the Dragon fire, when you know it’s impossible, but you still have to tell yourself that you’ll save them all somehow.” 

“You see?”  Vilkas said, “that’s nothing like being a werewolf.” 

She looked at him for a moment and gave a sad smile.

“I suppose not.”

“Being a werewolf is a battle against Hircine; the Daedric Prince who gave humanity this curse, and his hunt, and against your own addiction and desire – it’s a battle against yourself.”  He leaned forward and looked her in the eye, “Turns out that being the Dragonborn is a battle against the whole world.” 

“Feels like it.”  She whispered, surprised that anyone could understand this.  “I’m going to the Greybeards tomorrow.”  She said.  “I’m sure that makes you happy… I’m finally accepting my fate.”  She sighed.  “I’ll forgive him eventually.”  She looked back at Vilkas, “I care for him too much not to.”  She looked at the fire, “I suppose you can tell him that; that’s what he needs to hear.” 

“But will you forgive the rest of us?”  Vilkas asked.

“I suppose.”  She said in a low voice. 

“And will you ever trust any of us again?”

“I don’t know.”  She answered.  “Where you ever going to tell me?”  She looked at him, her eyes piercing him.

“Not if I had my way.”  Vilkas answered honestly.  “The old man’s looking for a cure…”  He explained.

“So in your perfect world, you all get cured and I never find out.”

“And you’re the first Circle member in hundreds of years to have never been befouled by this curse.”  He said. 

“Farkas called it a gift.”  She said softly.

“He’s… he finds it easier than me,” Vilkas said, “Kodlak’s said we shouldn’t turn unless it’s vital.  But I crave it.”  Vilkas admitted, “It calls to me.”  He lowered his eyes, “If I have to change for some reason, for months after I struggle not to change again… but Farkas… he slips into it easily, and he slips out of it easily.  He doesn’t crave it as much as the rest of us.” 

“He said he can struggle to come back.”  She said, wanting to know more.

“Oh that’s different.”  Vilkas said, “When you’re in beast form, it’s easy to want to stay but it’s easy to come back.  But sometimes Hircine makes the call for the hunt so strong that it’s almost impossible to resist.  You can still keep your own mind, it’s not like going feral… you just stay in wolf form for a long time and… I suppose sometimes you do go feral.” 

“Can you come back from going feral?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Farkas nearly went feral?” 

“Yeah he took to the blood real well.”  Vilkas remembered his brother’s initiation only too well.  It was only a few days after his own, and it had been brutal on the whole Circle.  “Back then we all thought it was a blessing; the strength and speed and…”  He shook his head, “He loved it… I loved it…”  He stared at the fire.  “Still do.”  He admitted something to her that he hadn’t admitted to the old man or to his twin brother; it was something he barely even admitted to himself.  “But I want to see Sovngarde when I die.  Not Hircine ’s eternal Hunting Grounds.”  He looked up at her, “What would you choose Dragonborn?”

“I don’t know…”

“Well the choice is before you.”  He said simply. 

“You call it a curse; you say it will befoul my blood…”

“And yet I love it.”  He said more freely now. 

“Would you turn me?”  She asked.

“No.”  He said the word, but she didn’t think he meant it.  “Don’t ask that of me.” 

“You couldn’t do that to Farkas.”  She tried to understand him.

“I couldn’t do that to you!”  He said firmly.  “Something that is done to you, is not something that is done to my brother!”  He stared into the fire, “I couldn’t do it… to you.”

“Because I’m the Dragonborn?” 

There was a long pause.

“Yes.”  He said finally.  “You are a descendant of a God.”  He said, “I believe that only the bloodline of Tiber Septim himself can be Dragonborn now.”  He looked her in the eye. 

“I’m not the great, great, great, however many greats, granddaughter of a God!”  She said angrily.  “I’m Saadia.  Nothing more, nothing less.  And that is what I wish to be measured by.”

“Then I am sorry that you will not get your wish.”  Vilkas said, “The people of Skyrim will always know you as Dragonborn.” 

“What you are saying is that you will never see me as a person, you will always see me as Dragonborn!  As the descendant of Talos!”  Saadia said in an accusatory tone.

“You say that like it is bad!”

“It is!”  Saadia answered angrily, “I am not the legends of Skyrim, I am my own women!  And I would not have you see me as-”

“And why do you care what I see you as?”  Vilkas asked. 

“Because… because you are his brother.”  She said firmly.  “And what you think matters to him.”

“I don’t influence him in that regard.”  He brushed off her concerns and then saw the venom in her eyes, “I won’t try to turn him against you, if that’s what you’re worried about.’  Vilkas said angrily, “I’m not that low, although I’m sure you think I’m lower.”

“I don’t think anything about you Vilkas, other than I can’t understand why you have to be so miserable and judgemental all the time.”  She said standing up and glaring at him. 

“Look,” He said getting up, “I just came here for my brother.  To tell you he’s sorry and he’s miserable about all of this.  Oh look – it’s not just me that you make miserable!” 

“Me?”  She said angrily and then stopped.  “Why do we always argue?”  She said and turned away from him. 

“Probably because we both love him so much.”  Vilkas said and sat back down, trying to get his thoughts and emotions back under control.

“But shouldn’t that make us strive to be nice to each other; for his sake?”  She turned to him, “And besides, I don’t know if I love him.”  She admitted, “I’m not really a woman who thinks about that kind of thing.”

“You care about him?”

“Yes of course.”

“What else is love but that?”  Vilkas shrugged. 

“You have a very simple view of love.”  Saadia said with a grim smile.

“I’m a Nord.” He answered simply, “That’s the way we are.”

She sat down and they both stared at the fire in silence. 

“So why did you come here?”  She asked and he scoffed.

“I don’t even know.”  He said, “He just asked me to talk to you, so I came.” 

“You’re a good brother.”  She told him. 

“Not always.”  He said.  “I honestly considered turning you for him.”  He said shaking his head.  “It would be so much easier for him, for all of us, if you were truly one of us.”  He looked at her again.  “But I won’t do that to you.  Neither will the old man… and I don’t think Farkas would either.”

“So it’s just Skjor and Aela to worry about.”

“I doubt they’ll do it against Kodlak’s wishes.”  He said, “And not without your consent.” 

“Weren’t you and Aela arguing about turning me when you thought I was dying?”  She asked and he turned his eyes to her.

“So you did hear that?”

“Some of it… I didn’t understand it at the time – but I do now.”  She said, “That wouldn’t have been with my consent.” 

“And it didn’t happen.”  He noted.

“But Aela…”  She said and he nodded and sighed.

“I’ll talk to them.” 

“But then they’ll know I know.”  She whispered. 

“I’ll talk to them without mentioning this.”  He said, “I’ll just remind them what Kodlak said about turning you.”

“Thank you.”

“Apparently talking to people for people is what I do now.”  He shrugged off her gratitude.  “So I can tell him that you’ll be alright?”

“Tell him… Tell him I’ll talk to him when I get back from the Throat of the World.” 

“Alright then.”

 

***

 

Saadia had set out at dawn and was running hard, leaving everything behind her, the journey thus far having been eventless.

It was a nearly 6 hour hard run to Ivarstead from Whiterun, assuming there were no problems on the road.  And Ivarstead was the only way to start the 7000 step journey to High Hrothgar, on the Throat of the World; the home of the Greybeards.  She had to run halfway around the mountain to even begin her journey up it.  She muttered darkly about Skyrim’s terrain as she ran. 

She was stopped at Valtheim Towers, about halfway through her journey, by a woman; a bandit, demanding a toll to use the road.  Saadia was about to tell her to back off, about to run on and ignore this fight… but then a surge of rage filled her chest; everything from the past few days came crashing in on her and she unsheathed her greatsword – the greatsword Farkas had given her and cut the woman’s head clean off. 

She heard a man cry out from the tower, and knew that the towers were filled with bandits… Bandits that would accost the next traveller, perhaps an honest trader or a traveller…

She turned to the tower, blood dripping from her greatsword, and headed in. 

She didn’t leave until every bandit was dead.

She didn’t feel like she had done good for the people of Skyrim.  She felt like she’d killed them in a fit of rage.

“End result’s the same.”  She said as she looked back up at the tower, standing back on the road, blood splatters on her face and torso.  “What difference does the motive make?”  She said as she turned away and continued her journey. 

 

***

 

Not even the beautiful rolling foothills of the mountain, laced with fast running rivers and glorious waterfalls, could improve Saadia’s mood as she got closer to Ivarstead. 

She just wanted to get her task done – to see these mysterious Greybeards and figure all of this out once and for all.

She just hoped they didn’t mind being kept waiting for over a month. 

When she came into Ivarstead, the first person she saw was a woman named Fastred, tending a farm.  Saadia was about to run past when she decided that maybe she should ask her what she knew about High Hrothgar. 

All Fastred told Saadia was that apparently, the Greybeards went their whole lives without uttering a single word… Saadia wondered how exactly they’d be communicating with her then.  This was looking more and more like a fool’s errand with every step she took. 

The guards were helpful, gossiping about everything; mostly about the increase in Vampire attacks and their fear that they could never bring down a Dragon.  They also advised her that even though it was only just after lunch, it would be better for her to start out tomorrow at dawn to make it to the top of the mountain by dusk.  They said it would be a bad idea to spend a night on the mountain. 

It seemed Saadia had not choice and she headed into the Vilemyr Inn. 

Willhelm, the barkeep told her almost immediately that they got no visitors except for pilgrims on their way to High Hrothgar.  Saadia booked a room, asked him for any work or gossip, got some food and mead and settled down to listen to their remarkably beautiful lute player: Lynly Star-Strung. 

Willhelm told her that a local lumber mill owner was offering gold for bear pelts, and then proceeded to tell her the story of a haunted barrow behind his inn, he said he had seen ghosts, and heard screams and that it was driving away customers.  Apparently a treasure hunter named Wyndelius had tried to explore the barrow, but he had never been seen again. 

Saadia listened to his story and watched the lute player as she ate.  When she’d finished she turned to Willhelm.

“I’ve got an afternoon to kill.”  She said with a devilish grin, “I’ll see if I can’t kill ghosts as well as I kill Dragons.” 

He stared at her for a moment before she left, leaving her money for the food on the counter.

She felt a little guilty for playing up the Dragon slaying thing - after all, she’d only killed one Dragon, and she had had help. 

She put it from her mind and headed to the barrow, almost directly behind the Inn. 

But before she’d gotten half a dozen steps out of the inn, a courier stopped her and gave her a letter before sprinting off at an incredible speed.  Saadia watched him in awe, wondering how he did that; it must be magic… and how did he find her?  Or know who she was?

“Magic.”  She whispered and then looked down at her letter. 

_Saadia,_

_Allow me to introduce myself.  My name is Siddgeir, and I have the honour to be the Jarl of the proud and ancient city of Falkreath._

_The fame of your exploits across Skyrim has bought you to my attention.  If you are interested in becoming Thane of Falkreath Hold, I invite you to speak to me the next time you are in Falkreath.  Aside from the honour that accrues the title, my Thanes are entitled to a personal housecarl.  I also can tell you privately that a choice parcel of land in Falkreath would be available for your purchase should your services prove useful to me._

_I look forward to meeting you in person._

_I remain,_

_Jarl Siddgeir of Falkreath_

“Oh no…”  She whispered to herself.  Now Jarls from other holds had heard of her and wanted to Thane her… Her father would hear of this… he would find her…

She stuffed the letter in her satchel and looked around the sleepy town of Ivarstead.  Maybe she’d just ignore this letter and stay in Whiterun?

Or maybe moving out of Whiterun would be best – put a little space between her and the Companions? 

And what would be best for Lucia?

She’d have to think about it.

She sighed and headed to the barrow, putting this mess from her mind.

The barrow was a creepy old building with skeletons lying in open sarcophagi, literally a few metres from the inn.

And also, another one of those black doors.  Saadia stood staring at it.

“Another ancient Nord ruin.”  She sighed, “I’ll be happy to stop seeing these doors.”  She said running her fingers along the familiar patterns.  She wondered if there would be another Word Wall inside.  With that thought she opened the door and looked in. 

Unlike most ancient Nord ruins, this barrow did not begin with a corridor leading down... it began with wooden, rickety, spiral staircase leading down into an unknown darkness.

“They’re Nord, that’s the way they are…”  She said, mocking Vilkas’s voice.  “It’s just the way they are to build death traps to bury their dead in.  Why can’t they use stone stairs all the time?  Why the wood stairs?”  She said as she started down the stairs, every step producing loud creaks of protest from the wood beneath her feet, “It’s just the Nord way to be so difficult all the Gods-damned time.”  The sound of dripping water did nothing to improve her mood or make her feel any safer on the stairs and she hugged the wall, terrified the stairs would give way under her weight, muttering about Nords and their ways, the entire way down.

“I’m not half Nord when it comes to these damned stairs.”  She said when she finally got off them.  And then she realised she missed having Lydia around.  “Maybe I should become Thane of Falkreath just so I can get another housecarl…”  She mused and then shook her head at herself; housecarls were people, not items to own.  “Alright woman, focus!”  She ordered herself and headed down the corridor. 

As she came around the corner of the burial stones she saw a ghostly apparition on the other side of a closed gate.

“Leave this place…”  He whispered to her, “Leave…”

Saadia stared, utterly amazed to be seeing a ghost.  And then the ghost walked away, whispering ‘leave’ over and over again. 

“Not a chance friend.”  Saadia said to where the ghost had stood. 

“You shall fear the dead!”  A disembodied voice echoed through the chamber.

“Yeah, we’ll see.”  Saadia muttered and looked around the room she was in for a lever for the gate.

She saw it, and 3 other levers, in a room to the side… with an opened gate doorway.

“I know how this game goes.”  She said; she pulls a lever and gets locked in the room while the other gate opens.

She supposed that the right combination with the levers might open both doors. 

She walked into the room with the levers and saw ebony shelves with a lot of supplies on them.

“Why would ghosts need fresh fruit and vegetables?”  She asked picking up a carrot.  But then she supposed it could be some weird Nord tradition to leave perfectly good food for the dead; they seem to have a lot of strange traditions when it came to the dead. 

She pocketed a few gold coins, some lockpicks, a couple of potions and an interesting container filled with dried leaves; Arcadia might like this. 

And then she turned to the levers.

2 on either side of the door, on the wall rather than on the floor as they usually were. 

Saadia put her fingers on the closest left one and pushed the lever up.

The was a sudden PHOOT sound and a poison dart smacked into the wall inches from her face. 

Saadia dove out of the room as dozens of poison darts strafed it mercilessly. 

She lay on the floor just outside of the door and looked over at the gate that she had been trying to open.  Still closed.

But then she looked back at the entrance to this part of the tomb… and there was a closed gate on that door now.  There was no way out of here now; either back or forward, without dealing with those levers.

“Come on!  Are you serious?”  She groaned to herself as she lay flat on the floor, realising that any wrong move with the levers would result in a torrent of poison darts from the small holes in the wall and ceiling in the lever room.  “How do they not run out of darts?”  She asked the empty room, “Magic.”  She narrowed her eyes in annoyance.  “Damned Nords!”  She got up and went back to the lever room. 

She looked back through the door at the other 2 gated doors and tried to figure out if there was a pattern she had to follow.

She pulled a different lever, the first on the right, ready to dive out of the room again…

But the gate crashed closed on her room, and the gate to the way forward opened. 

No poison darts.

She tried to lever next to that one, and it opened the gate to her room, the gate to the way forward was still open, but the gate to the exit was still closed.

“Easier than expected…”  She narrowed her eyes wondering what she’d missed.  She looked around and out through the gate that covered the way to the exit.  “It’s going to be much harder to get this gate opened.”  She realised. 

She cautiously went through the now opened gate and turned the corner into another room. 

On one side was a black door and on the other another gate.  But the gate had a pull chain next to it, so she assumed it would be easy enough to get through it.  She turned to the door… locked.

She knelt down and got her lockpicks out, putting her ear to the door as she worked, hearing the mechanisms in the lock moving. 

The door clicked open and she grinned to herself.

“I’m getting better at this.”  She said as she got up and went through the door.

There were more supplies in here; food and potions, stacked on the resting places next to dead draugr, and a chest at the end of the short room.

She stepped forward and heard the click. 

Cursing herself for forgetting the multitude of traps Nords liked to put in these things, she dove forward as 8 razor sharp iron spears shot out of the wall across the walkway, ready to impale anything in their paths.  Saadia looked up at them from the floor as they slowly returned to the wall, ready to be triggered again by the next fool to come in this room. 

She went to the chest and opened it, there were gold and gems ins-

She felt a sharp pain on the back of her neck and then heard the ping of a poison dart as it hit her armour harmlessly. 

“Damn.”  She put her hand to her neck and felt the world going woozy.  She fell to the floor, poison darts pinging off her armour, desperately hoping another one wouldn’t hit her.  She rummaged in her satchel as the world started to fade away, her fingers closing around the potion bottle weakly.

She drank the healing potion and instantly felt the world coming back into focus. 

She knew that she could heal the poison in her blood; just not without some rest and possibly sleep or unconsciousness, and this was not a safe location for that.  So taking potions helped in times like this. 

She sat up; the poison darts had stopped now. 

“Time to loot.”  She said weakly and got to her feet, emptying the contents of the chest into her satchel.

She took her time to feel more recovered before pulling the chain on the gated door. 

It closed as soon as she was passed it, and there was another gate ahead, and another chain… and a trapped stepping stone in between them.  Saadia could see the holes in the walls where the spears would come out, there was no room to dive away between the 2 gates.

She rolled her eyes at these damned Nords and carefully jumped over the trapped stone; feeling almost back to normal, glad she’d decided to hold onto those health potions.  She pulled the next chain and was out of that trap unharmed. 

“Does someone live?  Among the dead?”  A disembodied voice echoed through the room. 

Saadia looked around, wanting to see that ghost again; but she could see nothing, no one. 

She saw a black door on the side and opened it; fire spurts filled the room, but she managed to see another door on the other side of the room before it was filled with this raging inferno. 

She stared at the fire, wondering if this trap would stop any time soon when an ice spike hit her back.  She partially froze, but willed herself to turn and managed to crack the ice.  After having seeing Farkas do it, she knew it could be done; and she was determined to free herself.

The ice cracked again and she was free, dodging another ice spike, which had come from the ghost. 

Saadia rushed forward and swung her sword at the ghost, expecting it to hit nothing.

She was surprised when it hacked the ghost in half and a very dead man fell to the floor, the ghostly effect surrounding him disappearing.  There was a small hidden room here that he’d obviously been hiding in and Saadia made a mental note to be more cautious in the future. 

She searched the dead man and the room, and found a tattered journal in amongst a few things she could sell including some dried herbs and insects and several bottles with a strange glowing potion in them. 

She opened the tattered journal and read the story of a treasure hunter named Wyndelius, looking for a Dragon’s claw to open the burial chamber within this barrow. 

Saadia knew about those keys; she’d used Lucan’s golden Dragon claw key to open the burial chamber that had had the Dragonstone in it.  She wondered if that would open this one too. 

She read on and realised that Wyndelius had fabricated the existence of ghosts in this barrow to keep the superstitious townsfolk away while he searched for the Dragon’s claw in the ruins – once he had the claw he could get to the riches in the burial chamber.  He started scaring the townsfolk by banging burial urns and pots together and making ghostly sounds, but eventually he created a potion that gave him a ghostly appearance. 

Saadia looked down at the potion bottles she’d picked up and started to laugh.  Until she continued reading – he’d gone mad in his search for the claw, unable to find it, he was sure the towns people were toying with him… and then he began to half believe himself to be a ghost.  He considered himself to be the guardian of Shroud Hearth Barrow by the end of the journal, his ramblings becoming less and less coherent. 

She closed the journal and looked around at the room.  These old ruins might not be haunted with ghosts… but they were haunted in some other strange way.  She almost felt that she didn’t want to spend too much time down here, lest she be taken by madness as Wyndelius was. 

She walked back past the fiery room and saw that the fire had finally dissipated.  The door at the other end of the room led to a Hall of Stories, a ringed door at the end, the pictures on the rings, the hole for the dragon claw in the middle; it looked just as much like an archery target as the last ringed door she’d seen. 

But she had no way through this door; lock picking didn’t work, and she had no claw. 

She headed out, feeling a sense of frustration and curiosity building in her; she wouldn’t mind seeing what was on the other side of that door.  She stopped and looked back… there was a definite pulling and she knew she had to get past that door somehow.

She’d have to ask Lucan if she could borrow his claw; she had to get through that door!  The Greybeards would have to wait for her…

She went back to the rooms with the gate traps and angrily pulled a lever, mentally trying to keep track of what combinations she’d used, and physically ready to dive out of the way should the poison darts start.

15 minutes, a lot of swearing, and some bloodied elbows from diving away from poisoned darts, and she had all three gates opened. 

She went back to the inn to let Willhelm know that she would have to leave now – headed for Riverwood to get Lucan’s claw. 

“Willhelm…” She said as she sat down at the bar to have a drink before she went, “Do the ghosts come to town?”  She asked, curious about how Wyndelius had survived for so long in the barrow. 

“No, thank the Gods; they seem to stay in the barrow.”

“Had any thefts lately?”  She asked as she pulled the journal out. 

“Actually!”  He said excitedly, “We’ve had a lot of food stolen!  Maybe you can sort that out for us?”  He said, narrowing his eyes in anger, “It’s that Klimmek!  He’s poor as a beggar, but he still manages to find enough food to take up to the Greybeards?  Some say he’s just pious, I say he’s a thief!”  Willhelm said and Saadia dropped Wyndelius’s journal in front of him in reply. 

“Might want to apologise to Klimmek.”  She said and nodded for him to read it. 

“Let me see that…”  He picked the journal up and read it, Saadia sipping the strong spiced wine he’d given her as he did.  “I can’t believe this!”  He said after a while, he muttered to himself in disbelief as he kept reading.  “It was all just a fabrication of this Wyndelius character!  I can’t believe we were all so stupid!”  He said angrily.  “Let me give you something for taking care of him.”  He said and reached behind his counter, producing a beautiful sapphire and gold Dragon claw.  Saadia’s eyes fell upon with excitement.  “It might help you finish clearing out the barrow.”  He said as he handed it to her. 

“So you did have the claw all along.”

“I didn’t know he wanted it.”  Willhelm said, “but I wouldn’t have given it to him anyway.”  He declared, “Only certain people earn the right to tread where our ancestors did.” 

Saadia looked at the big sapphire and gold dragon claw key on her hand; she had her way in.  
“Thanks Willhelm.”  She said, forgetting all about going back to Riverwood, or putting off seeing the Greybeards – now she just wanted to get back into that barrow.

She turned and saw Fastred at the door, looking at them curiously.  As she approached the woman stopped her.

“Are you going back into the barrow?”  She asked, her eyes falling to the claw.

“Yes.”  Saadia said and grabbed the door handle. 

“Can I come with you?”

“I don’t know what’ll be down there.”  Saadia answered, looking at the woman, dressed in a simple dress, her hair tied back loosely, her hands calloused with farm work. 

“I understand, but… Well Ivarstead is so boring, and I’ve always wanted to see inside the barrow… but I’ve never been brave enough to go by myself…”

“I can’t guarantee your safety.”  Saadia told her.

“I’ll keep my head down and stay behind you.”  She said.

“Sometimes the danger comes from behind.”  Saadia told her.

“I’ll stay out of the way.”  Fastred promised.  “I just want 1 adventure in my life.”  She pleaded and Saadia sighed.

“Alright, but you do as you’re told instantly, understood?”

“Understood.”  Fastred answered and tried not to jump up and down for joy. 

Fastred followed so closely behind Saadia that when she stopped to reach for her greatsword she banged into Saadia – they weren’t even in the barrow yet.  Saadia raised an eyebrow at her.

“Sorry.”  Fastred said in an excited whisper and Saadia drew her greatsword before entering the barrow, heading straight for the big black doors.  “The skeletons shouldn’t be uncovered like this.”  She said sadly.

“A man named Wyndelius came through here, searching through everything.”  Saadia answered, “Your people will have to undo his damage and return respect and honour to the dead.”  She said what she thought Vilkas would have said and the Nord woman seemed comforted by those words.

“I’ll organise people to start the process tomorrow.”  She said determinedly.  “Our ancestors should not lie disturbed like this.” 

Saadia said nothing and simply opened the door, sighing silently to herself as she saw the spiral staircase. 

She managed to keep her usual tirade of annoyed grumblings about these types of stairways to herself as she walked down them, her head held high, refusing to grip the wall as she usually did, unwilling to show Fastred the slightest sign of weakness simply because Fastred thought she was some sort of bold, fearless adventurer.  Saadia didn’t want to let her down.

To Saadia’s relief, the gates were all still open.

“When you come through to clean up, don’t touch those levers, understood?  They’re traps.”

“Understood.”  Fastred said in awe and they continued on the Hall of Stories.  “Wow…”  She said in awe as she looked closely at the pictures carved into the walls, her fingers touching the image of one of the Gods being worshipped. 

Saadia left Fastred to her revelry and approached the ring door, the sapphire claw in her hand.

“Moth, owl, wolf…”  She mumbled, looking at the pictures on the claw, and began moving the rings.  Fastred looked up from the carvings, fascinated by what Saadia was doing, and came over.  “Just step back, these things are always trapped, and if I’m wrong about the combination, I don’t want your death on my conscious.”  Saadia said pointing to a spot well away from the door.

Fastred did what she was told and Saadia put the sapphire claw into the keyhole, ready to dive away if necessary. 

But the door opened slowly and both Fastred and Saadia breathed easier as a simple corridor was revealed behind the door. 

But Saadia was even more sure now that there was a word down here.  The pull was slight, but it was there. 

“There’s probably draugr in here.”  Saadia said, shoving the sapphire claw in her satchel and raising her sword, “Are you sure you want to-”

“Yes.”  Fastred whispered breathlessly, again standing close to Saadia, her hands touching her back as she crouched behind the massive woman. 

Saadia didn’t reply, instead she headed into the depths of the barrow. 

There were no problems until they came to the first puzzle room.

Saadia noticed the sarcophagi lining the walls, she saw a lever behind a gate, a book holding down a trap plate on a pedestal, the exit door covered by a gate, and another room with an open gate and a lever.

She looked around and tried to figure out the puzzle before she touched anything. 

Fastred peeked out from behind Saadia, and when she saw that the room was safe, but that there was a gate, she realised that it was safe for her to have a look around. 

“At least the sarcophagi are closed here.”  Fastred said.

“Don’t get near them.”  Saadia said firmly and Fastred backed away from them. 

She turned and saw the book and picked it up to have a look.

There was a click and Saadia turned to see what Fastred had done; the woman looking horrified by the sound of that click…

And then the gate over the door they had come through dropped, trapping them in the room.

“Bloody Nords…”

But before either of them could respond any further, 2 of the sarcophagi lids exploded off, Fastred screaming and ducking as the lids flew across the room.  Saadia batted the pieces away with her sword and awaited the draugr, her mind calm and focussed. 

Saadia sliced the first one in half with her first hit, the second one bringing its axe down on her armoured shoulder.  It would bruise, but it didn’t hurt too much, and she shoulder barged the creature away before stabbing it through the chest, pulling her sword out and in the same movement, beheading the foul draugr before its body had time to slump to the ground.

“You are a heroine…”  Fastred whispered in awe. 

“Draugr aren’t hard to kill when there’s only 2 of them.”  Saadia answered, “Probably because they’re already dead.”

“How do we get out of here?”

“You go and pull that lever.”  Saadia nodded towards the only open door, “The door will slam down on you, but I’ll be able to get you out with the other lever.”  She pointed to the lever in the other small room, currently blocked with a gate.

“But won’t that just lock you in there.

“No.”  Saadia said, “Because you already took the book.” 

“That doesn’t make any sense…”  Fastred answered.

“Nords.”  Saadia said in way of an answer.

And even through Fastred didn’t understand, she did as she was told, Saadia was proven right and they continued on their way. 

Beyond the gated door was another spiral staircase, this one leading up.  Saadia looked up at it and Fastred stepped forward to get a better look-

The grate flooring at the bottom of the stairs gave way and she plunged into icy water, screaming as she fell.

“FASTRED!”  Saadia fell to her stomach and looked through the hole to the water not too far below her.  She reached her hand in and felt fingers close around her wrist.  She pulled back, trying to get whoever was holding her wrist out of the water, but whoever it was, was heavy. 

Bubbles rose to the surface and Saadia pulled as hard as she could, grabbing the hand that had grabbed her with both hands, eventually seeing Fastred’s screaming face just below the surface of the water. 

And that’s when Saadia realised that something was pulling Fastred down. 

Saadia pulled harder and managed to get her feet under herself, pushing up with her powerful thighs she got Fastred’s face out of the water, the woman screaming and gasping for air.  Saadia kept pulling and whatever had a hold of Fastred let go, sending both women tumbling back to the floor. 

Fastred was left shivering and crying, massive welt marks up her legs, bruising around her ankles from where whatever it was had grabbed at her.

The grating closed slowly, and the trap was re-set. 

“You saved my life.”  Fastred panting gripping hold of Saadia tightly. 

“You’ll have to tell the townsfolk to be careful of that trap.”  Saadia told her, “Perhaps put something down over it, so you can get to the stairs safely.”  She said and got Fastred to her feet.  “We have to keep going.”  She said to the woman firmly and Fastred nodded slowly.  “You can go back if you want…”

“I’m not leaving your side!”  Fastred said – she knew where the safest place to be was. 

“Alright, well come on.”  She said and leapt over the grating in the floor to the bottom step.  She reached back and held a hand out to help Fastred across. 

Saadia swore to herself as the stairs creaked beneath her and they climbed upwards, discovering two doors, one up at the top of the stairs, and one halfway up the stairs.

“Which one?”  Saadia asked Fastred.

“Highest one.”  She answered, wanting to put as much distance between herself and those horrors in the water as possible.  She wrapped her arms around herself, cold and shivering and followed Saadia as she went up to the highest door.

“Ugh.”  Saadia said as she tried to open it.  “Locked.”  She sighed and got her lockpicks out. 

“I didn’t know heroines picked locks!”  Fastred sounded almost scandalised.

“We do if we ever want to get through all these ruins.”  Saadia answered, listening to the door.  This one was tricky.  She snapped over half of her lockpicks trying to get through the door, kicking it in frustration more than once, before she finally heard the blissful click of the lock and the door swung open. 

Inside was simply a chest… with another devilishly tricky lock.

Saadia was in a foul mood and down to 5 lockpicks when the lock finally opened, Fastred sitting on the stairs staring down at the grate covering the water. 

“Well I’m glad that’s done.”  Saadia muttered as she left the room after finding some good quality weapons in the chest that she’d be able to sell for a small fortune. 

“Was it worth it?”  Fastred asked and Saadia shrugged.

“It’ll keep my daughter in food for a month.”  She answered, “So I suppose it was.” 

“You have a daughter?”  She asked in awe.

“Yeah.”  Saadia answered.

“I always thought that once you had kids your chances of having an exciting life were over!”  Fastred said.

“I think it can mean that if you want it to.  I think a lot of people use children as an excuse to not go on adventures because part of them is afraid.”  Saadia said, “And I think having a child can be one of life’s greatest adventures.”  She looked Fastred in the eyes, “In Skyrim, life is very much what we make it.”  She started heading down the stairs, “and that’s not to say that sometimes things aren’t outside of our control.”  She continued, “But we are very much in control of how we respond to things.”  She thought about that for a long moment, her mind resting on Farkas. 

“So how I respond to motherhood is up to me…”  Fastred marvelled.

“Are you pregnant?”

“No… but my parents want me to marry soon.”  She answered.

“And you’ll be pregnant not long after that.”  Saadia understood. 

“Probably.”  Fastred agreed. 

“Well-” But a creaking noise from the other side of the door they were about to go through stopped her short. 

They both looked at the door and Saadia slowly pushed it open. 

Fastred gasped and Saadia hushed her softly; skeletons were walking about in the next room.  They held weapons and were patrolling the halls. 

Saadia noticed that there were a multitude of trap plates on the floor and the skeletons stepped around them expertly on their journeys.

“Stay here.”  She whispered to Fastred and creeped forward.  She stood before a trap plate and waited for the skeletons to spot her. 

Once one did he called to the others and they all headed towards her.

Saadia waited until they were close and stepped on the trap, diving away as a volley of deadly poison darts sprayed the skeletons, ripping them to shreds. 

These darts had been deadlier than any other darts she’d come across; she’d have to be extra careful about traps.

Saadia motioned for Fastred to come to her and the shivering woman did.

“That was incredible.”  She whispered when she got to Saadia but Saadia paid no heed, she was already focussed on the way forward. 

“Step where I step.”  She told Fastred and continued on, the pull growing stronger.

The hallway opened up to a balcony overlooking a dozen skeletons patrolling a room covered with an oil slick.

And Saadia grinned when she saw the lanterns hanging from the roof.  She saw the trap steps on the floor in the room – no doubt when you stepped on one a lantern would fall igniting the oil and killing whoever triggered the trap.  She watched the skeletons step around the traps and sized up the distance to those lanterns. 

She took out her bow and arrows and took aim.

Saadia missed the first shot and the effect was instantaneous; the arrow fell on the ground amongst the skeletons.  They all looked down at the arrow and then up at the balcony, spotting her instantly. 

She quickly lined up her shot again as the archers took aim at her and the melee fighters came for her, their weapons held high- 

And in their haste to get to her one of them trod on a trap plate and the lanterns fell.

Saadia tackled Fastred to the ground as a huge fireball exploded upwards, everything on the ground floor obliterated by the fire, the balcony protecting Saadia and Fastred from the worst of the blaze. 

“Archery.”  Saadia said through gritted teeth. 

“That was lucky.”  Fastred noted and Saadia grunted in reply.

They walked on, following the path down a stone ramp to the bottom floor, the flames dying off as quickly as they erupted. 

As they crossed the floor, Saadia noticed that oil was bleeding back up through the ground.  She looked up and saw that new pots were growing out of the hanging ropes.

The trap was re-setting.

“Magic.”  She muttered darkly. 

The path led up a ramp on the other side of the room.

“Look at this.”  Fastred said as they got to the balcony on the other side.  It was a hole in the room, showing a treasure room with chests, weapons and gems on the other side.  “How do we get in?”  She asked and the search began for an entrance to the room.

A few minutes later, Saadia found a small button next to a sarcophagus.  She hesitated to press it, knowing it could be a trap.

And as soon as she did press it, the lid of the nearby sarcophagus flew off, Saadia readied herself for a fight… but it was actually an entrance to a room – to the treasure room.

There was so much loot in the room that Saadia couldn’t possibly carry it all and she had to leave the lesser value items behind, grumbling that she needed to get stronger so she could carry more; she suspected her bag was never ending… but her strength was not. 

“I won’t tell anyone.”  Fastred said as she pocketed as many gems as she could, grinning, “You know… disrespecting the dead and all.”  She deliberately left behind a gold coin for the dead, Saadia trying not to roll her eyes; what could the dead want with a single gold coin after they’d just looted thousands of coins worth of goods?  What could the dead want with a gold coin even if they hadn’t looted everything?

She left the coin there nonetheless.

By the time they left the treasure room, the trap had completely reset itself, Saadia looked at in awe as they turned to the next door.  Fastred screaming loudly. 

2 of the biggest draugr Saadia had ever seen stood there, glaring at her. 

“I’m sorry!”  Fastred said beginning to empty her pockets of the gems. 

The draugr screamed at her in their tongue and she cowered on the floor.

Saadia hacked at the first one, but one blow was not enough to finish these draugr.  They were tougher, they wore armour, their weapons were marginally better…

She ducked an axe blow and swung her sword up, slicing off the hand gripping the axe. 

The draugr didn’t miss a beat, simply punching her in the face with the stump. 

And it punched with force.  Saadia stumbled back but laughed – she’d been hit by Farkas, this was nothing!  She was much stronger for that fight with Farkas, she wondered if it was Kynareth’s Kiss working through her blood – making her stronger with each passed trial. 

She sliced its whole arm off, and then its other arm before the other draugr had a chance to bring its sword down on her.  She parried the blow and head butted the draugr, while the other, now armless draugr teetered around. 

While one draugr reeled backwards from her head butt, she spun and beheaded the armless draugr, turning back to the other one and ramming her sword through its belly, reefing it upwards to its chest before pulling it out.

Both draugr laid at her feet dead.

“Pick up your gems Fastred.”  Saadia said as she took the armour off the armless draugr; it was still in good condition and it’d be worth a lot of gold.  She had to drop an iron shield to be able to carry the armour.  She hoped she was right about what would make her more coin. 

They went through the next door and Saadia heard the familiar SWOOSH of swinging axes.

She sighed and turned to Fastred.

“Stay here, I’ll see if I can get past them and turn them off for you to come through safely.”  She said.

“Turn what off?”  Fastred said and her eyes followed Saadia’s hand as she pointed further up the corridor.  “By the Gods.”  She whispered as she saw the swinging axes, “You’ll never get past them alive.”

“I hope you’re wrong.”  Saadia answered and approached the axes. 

There were only three swinging axes this time, so it was relatively easy to get past them. 

Beyond them there was a chain to pull to stop them, and a room with a huge draugr in it again, and a trigger plate on the floor.  From what she could see,  Saadia guessed that when you stepped on the plate, the metal gate would swing open, sweeping you off your feet and smashing you into the wall, the metal spikes impaling you in the process.  There was no diving away from that one; the arc of the swing on the gate was too great. 

She killed the draugr, cutting its arms off in the same way as she had already done with this kind of draugr, careful not to step on the plate during the fight, the draugr’s dead body missing it by only millimetres as it fell. 

With the way clear she went back to stop the axes and let Fastred through. 

“Step where I step again.”  Saadia told her and Fastred, a quick study, followed exactly. 

At the end of the corridor were 2 easily killed draugr, another black door – and another tricky lock.

“5 lockpicks…”  Saadia said as she put her ear to the door, listening carefully. 

SNAP

The lockpick snapped. 

Saadia took a deep breath and started again, carefully manoeuvring the picks in the lock, the pull from the word she knew was down here now was getting much stronger. 

SNAP

“Gods Damn it!”  Saadia swore and threw down the broken pick, starting again.  The lock gave slightly and she knew she was close-

SNAP

She gritted her teeth and focussed, Fastred looking away, understanding how much focus Saadia needed. 

She looked at the dead draugr lying on the floor, covered in rags, hardly worth looting.

SNAP

Last pick.  If Saadia couldn’t get through on this pick, the adventure was over.  And Saadia couldn’t handle that – she was too close to the word. 

“Wait!”  Fastred hissed and Saadia nearly snapped the pick from starting at her unexpected command.  Saadia turned to see the timid woman gingerly pulling the tunic aside on one of the draugr’s chests.  She looked utterly repulsed as she reached under the clothing and then yanked hard….

A chain… and on the chain – a key.

“You’re brilliant.”  Saadia said as Fastred handed her the key.  “I’ll remember to search for keys in future.”  Saadia said as she opened the door. 

The next room was a huge cavern, a waterfall falling down the ruins, balconies, walkways, a running river… a cacophony of movement and noise… it would be very difficult to know where their enemies were, and to see traps in this misty air; the spray of the waterfall floating in the air. 

They carefully explored the room, finding several normal draugr, Saadia stopping to search them for anything useful.  They all had nothing. 

Eventually they made it up to one of the balconies; the other one was not accessible, except for a draw-bridge, currently up.

Both balconies had doors on them, but the balcony they had access to – that door only had a dead end room with an easily avoided trap on the floor. 

Saadia looked across to the other balcony, its bridge held high; she could feel the pull from the door on that balcony.  The word wall was that way. 

“There must be a way to get this bridge down.”  Fastred said and Saadia nodded.

She had already noticed the 4 ebony pillars, each with 3 animals on them.  She just couldn’t see anything anywhere to give them a clue as to what order to put them in, or any sort of lever to pull. 

There were just the pillars, a floor trap in the dead end room, and a floor trap here on the balcony.

They searched for a long time, scouring the whole cavern, but they could find nothing. 

Eventually Saadia came back to the dead end room, running her hands along the walls; there were cracks here that looked like they might form a secret room… but there was no way to open them. 

“It has to be the trap.”  She turned back to the floor trap.

“It’ll kill you!”  Fastred said and Saadia shook her head.

“If something happens to me, close the door and run home.”  Saadia said, “Leave me here; I’ll be alright.”

“What?  I couldn’t-”

“The deal was you’d do as you’re told.”  Saadia said.  Fastred nodded her head reluctantly.  “Alright, go out of the room, wait out there.”  She pointed to a spot where Fastred could still see her but would be out of the line of fire.  “Remember, if something bad happens-”

“I close the door and run home.”  Fastred said miserably. 

Saadia looked down at the floor trap and took a deep breath. 

“Alright.”  She readied herself and then stepped onto the trap. 

There was a loud grinding noise and Saadia tried to figure out which way to dive, but the sound was coming from all around her. 

Four secret doors rotated open, but they kept rotating on the spot, only revealing a glimpse into the room beyond for a second.

Saadia watched the first door and saw the glimpse she needed – it was a plaque telling her what animals needed to be on the ebony pillars.

“Yes!”  She said and watched the first rotating door closer as Fastred edged back into the room.  “Clever,” Saadia said shaking her head, “After all the floor traps in this place, who’d want to willingly step on one to solve this puzzle?”  Fastred laughed in relief, “Whale.”  Saadia said as the saw the glimpse into the first room, she turned her eyes to the second rotating door, almost completely covered with moss.  “Eagle.”

“Whale, eagle.”  Fastred repeated and Saadia turned her eyes to the third rotating door. 

“Snake.”  Saadia said and she started to feel a rumble under the trap.  “I think this thing is going to blow up if I stand on it for too much longer.”  She told Fastred as she looked at the 4th door, “Get out of here.”

Fastred ran for the door as Saadia waited for the fourth rotating door to tell her the 4th animal…

A high pitched squeal started.

“Saadia!”  Fastred called, “Get out of there!” 

“Just a bit longer…”  Saadia said watching the rotating door.

“I don’t think you have a bit longer!”

“WHALE!”  Saadia screamed excitedly and jumped off the trap, running from the room.  

The trap ticked ominously as the doors stopped moving, but it whirred and the high pitched squeal slowly faded out.

“I have a feeling that that was very close.”  Fastred said and Saadia nodded. 

“Whale, eagle, snake, whale.”  Saadia said with a grin and went to the first pillar, moving it until the right animal faced the front. 

Once all of the pillars were ready Saadia looked down at the floor trap on the balcony. 

“Ok, when I step on this run across the bridge as soon as it comes down, and hide until I get there.”

“Alright.”  Fastred said and Saadia waited for her to be ready, poised to run, standing near where the bridge would come down.

“And if something bad happens-”

“I run home.”  Fastred intoned. 

Saadia stepped forward onto the second floor trap and the bridge dropped down.  Fastred ran across it, but almost instantly the trap began to vibrate angrily. 

Saadia dove for the bridge; it began to rise as soon as her weight came off the trap.  She ran for all she was worth, getting to the other side just in time, the trap on the other side of the bridge ticking ominously again. 

“I don’t think we’re ever getting out of here…”  Fastred said, not being able to see a way to bring the bridge down from this side.

“There’s usually a really simple back exit, only accessible from this side.”  Saadia answered, her experience being able to comfort Fastred.  She remembered her first feeling of fear – worrying she’d never get out of one of these ruins.  “Let’s hurry up and find it shall we?”

“Yes.”  Fastred said looking back across to the other balcony.  “We’ll have to build an un-trapped bridge across this to finish the clean-up.” 

Saadia had to admire Fastred’s determination. 

“It’ll be good to know that one of these tombs is being looked after.”  Saadia said, “Perhaps you can start burying your dead here again?”

“Perhaps.”  Fastred said thoughtfully. 

Nothing but draugr and corridors greeted them for some time, until Fastred tripped, her hand landing on a trap plate, eliciting a loud rumble from up ahead on the path.  Saadia looked up the path, wondering what the trap had been – it had obviously misfired… and then several tonnes of boulders came rolling down the corridor at them. 

She dragged Fastred to her feet and ran, finding a small alcove to hide in, she threw Fastred in just as a boulder bounced up and hit her in the back, spinning her around, Saadia landing hard in the alcove, winded, her back singing out in pain, the rest of the rocks rolling past them. 

“I’m so sorry!”  Fastred said, pulling a healing potion out of her pocket and handing it to Saadia.

“I’m fine.”  Saadia said, already feeling the itch of her healing in her back.  “Watch where you’re stepping; we can’t afford to trip over in this place.”  Saadia got to her feet and stretched out her back, groaning and complaining to herself.

“You must be sorry you brought me.”  Fastred said, shamed.

“Not at all.”  Saadia answered, “The road can get lonely, and you’re excellent company.”  Saadia didn’t look back at Fastred to see the young woman smiling., instead she was peering around the corner, looking back up the corridor, making sure it was all clear.  “Let’s go.” 

The room at the end of the corridor was a huge cavernous room; the kind Saadia had gotten used to seeing in these ruins.  She began to wonder if there was anywhere in Skyrim that didn’t have some sort of huge cavernous ruin under them… and that made her wonder how the whole land didn’t just cave in on itself. 

She could feel the pull of the Word Wall, but it wasn’t in this room – it was beyond this room.  She didn’t have to see it to know it was there… it was close now…

The room had a big plateau in the centre, with a bridge leading to the next room beyond it, a waterfall falling down behind it, a sarcophagus in front of the bridge.  She had a feeling that someone big and bad was in that coffin. 

As usual with these big rooms, the room was surrounded with draugr sarcophagi, but this time, there was a gate, opened now, at the entrance door to this cavern.  Saadia knew that as soon as she stepped into the room, the gate would drop, locking her in here with whatever was here to protect the Word Wall beyond this room.

She found it easier to focus with Fastred here; she had to protect this woman.

She thought about how hard it had been to focus with Farkas around… and she realised that that was because she knew he’d keep her alive while she gave in to the call of the Word.

When she was alone she could focus, when she had a helpless person with her, she could focus really well… but when she had someone like Farkas there, the Word Wall’s call was too strong, she couldn’t focus. 

She mused on this for a moment before she pushed it away, refocussed and sized up the room. 

“It’s a trap.”  Fastred said looking at the door on the entrance.

“Yes I know.”  Saadia said, “But we’re going in nonetheless.”  She said, “It’s going to be very dangerous; you do everything you can to stay out of danger, alright?”

“I will.”  Fastred said, “You can rely on me.”

“I know Fastred.”  Saadia said and they stepped through the door together.

As expected, the gate slammed down behind them.

Instantly the lids of the sarcophagi began flying off.

“Here we go…”  Saadia said, seeing a mixture of draugr and skeletons getting out of the sarcophagi. 

Fastred hid herself between the sacred fire bowl and the wall, and peered out at Saadia, hoping she would be alright… knowing she would be. 

Archers set up on the plateau and rained arrows down on her, pinging off her armour as she cut a swathe through the skeletons and draugr, new ones rising every minute. 

“Come on!”  Saadia complained as even more draugr rose, giant ones accompanying the usual rabble she had to deal with.  “I just want to rob your damned tombs!”  She joked as she sliced off the leg of one of the giant draugr.  “Can’t you leave me in peace to do that?”  She asked as she punched a skeleton in the face.  “And why must it always be draugr, why not puppies and kittens?”  She asked as she beheaded a draugr. 

She got to the plateau and mowed down the archers, pushing them off the cliff to the ground below, watching them shatter with relish. 

She heard another sarcophagi lid burst behind her and new it was the main coffin in the room blowing.

She turned to see a huge draugr getting out of the sarcophagi, his eyes glowing blue, a huge horned helm on his head, a massive 2-handed, magical axe in his hands.

If Hadvar had been there, he would have told her it was a Draugr Overlord.  And that many of them knew the Dragon Tongue.  But Saadia was facing this foe alone, and she nothing of its skills.

It raised its axe and she blocked his punishing blow, the jolt of it shuddering through her body.  She kicked out, kicking it in the stomach, making it back up, then she sliced along its stomach, the creature completely unaffected by the dust slowly falling from the wound. 

She saw the creature pause to take a deep breath and took her opportunity to slice its throat. 

It didn’t kill the thing, but it did stop it from speaking… and from using the Shout it had been about to use.  Not that Saadia knew that.  Although she suspected; she had seen a draugr Shouting when she had retrieved the Dragonstone.

It lunged at her, bringing its axe down on her, she parried the blow, but it was bringing the axe down again and again and again, Saadia stepping back with each blow, getting closer to the edge of the plateau, her arms shuddering with each brutal hit. 

So she tackled the thing.  Heaved her shoulder into its gut and sent it flying with her on top, her greatsword still in one hand. 

As soon as they landed, the draugr’s battle axe flew out of its hands and Saadia brought her greatsword up and slammed it through the draugr’s chest, reefing it up until it came out of its shoulder.  She got up off the draugr and watched it try to get to its feet, its body nearly cut in two. 

Saadia made quick work of it; slicing it in half as it stumbled around. 

She picked up its axe and found she could just manage the weight of it and all her other loot.  She was getting stronger.

“Come on Fastred.”  She called back to the young woman, “We’re really close now.”

Fastred ran up to Saadia, grinning wildly.

“I can’t believe how you killed it!”  She said, her eyes wide with excitement.  “O mean I can believe it… but I can’t believe it!”

“We’re not done yet.”  Saadia calmed her down and looked at the bridge crossing to the next room. 

Fastred nodded and focussed her attention on the bridge too. 

The bridge led to a tunnel.

Which led to another tunnel.

Which opened up to a modest room, with twin water falls, treasure chests… and the Word Wall. 

She could hear it calling to her, and she crossed the bridge to it; there were no sarcophagi here, no traps… she was safe, Fastred was safe. 

The Word reached out to her, and she went to it, the word impregnating itself into her very being.

Fastred watched, confused.  The Wall looked ominous, scary, and she wanted to stay away from it.  But Saadia stepped right up to it.  When she staggered away from it, Fastred went to her, worried.  The Wall didn’t seem quite so menacing now, she wondered what she’d even been worried about. 

“Did you hear anything?”  Saadia sked her.

“No…”

“See anything?”

“Just you approaching this Wall – are you alright?”

“Yes I’m fine.”  Saadia answered.  “Did you feel anything?”

“I thought there was a dark presence… something scary… but it’s gone now.”  Fastred said and Saadia looked back at the Wall, wondering if the Word itself had made Fastred feel that way. 

“We’re safe.”  Saadia said, “And it’s time to go.”

“After we check the chests!”  Fastred said happily and Saadia nodded, wondering how she was ever going to carry all of this stuff!

There had been a way out behind the Word Wall, leading to a secret door very near the entrance to the barrow – right in the room where Wyndelius had hidden himself and his journal. 

Fastred hugged Saadia before heading home, the cool dusk air was refreshing after the barrow, so Saadia walked slowly back to the inn, her loot weighing her down; she’d have a lot to sell tomorrow.  If anyone in this tiny town actually bought things like that…

 

***

 

No one in town bought things like that.

Saadia booked a room at the inn for another 2 nights and stored some things in the room before heading out at dawn to go up the mountain.

Apparently it would take all day. 

She supposed she’d have to stay up there with the Greybeards overnight before heading back down.

She was heading out of town, about to cross a bridge over some rapids when she saw two men talking.

“On your way up the 7,000 steps again Klimmek.”  One of them said; a Wood Elf.

So this was the man who brought the Greybeards food.  Perhaps he could tell her something about the journey, and about them.

“Not today.”  Klimmek looked disappointed with himself, “I'm just not ready to make the climb to High Hrothgar.  The path isn't safe.”  He explained.  Saadia groaned internally.  Wonderful; a dangerous journey up a mountainside with no safe places to rest. 

“Aren't the Greybeards expecting some supplies?”  The Wood Elf asked.

“Honestly Gwilin, I'm not certain.”  Klimmek answered, “I've yet to be allowed into the monastery.  Perhaps one day.”

Gwilin, the Wood Elf gave his friend a sympathetic look.  But Klimmek had seen Saadia coming and was looking her way.  “You heading up the mountain?”  He asked her, “I’ll be heading up there myself with some deliveries soon.”

“What sort of deliveries?”  Saadia asked curiously.

“Mostly food; dried meats and salted fish, things like will keep for a long time.”  He said, “The Greybeards tend not to get out much, if you catch my meaning.” 

“And he gets nothing in return.”  Gwilin said with a happy smile.

“Well it’s kind of an understanding between us.”  Klimmek said, “it wouldn’t feel right charging them for a bit of preserved food.”  He shrugged awkwardly, “Trouble is my legs aren’t what they used to be, climbing the 7,000 steps takes its toll on the knees!”  He said and Saadia already knew where this was going. 

“Give it here.”  She looked at the bag of supplies he was holding. “I’ll take it.”

“Really?”  He sounded surprised, “That would be nice of you.”  He handed the bag to her, “There’s a donation chest at-”

“I’ll find it don’t worry.”  Saadia said, stretching out her satchel and putting the bag of supplies in it.  She was glad she’d thought to empty her things out in the chest in her inn room.  “Is there anything you can tell me about the climb?”  She asked.

“I’ve ever only had to deal with the occasional wolf pack.”  He said.

“No problems.”  Saadia answered.

“And watch your footing.  It’s treacherous up there, and there’s always wintery conditions.”  He said, “Even in summer.”

“And it’s a long way to fall.”  Gwilin said with a smile.

“You’re very happy.”  Saadia said to him.

“My father taught me an important lesson many years ago,” Gwilin said, “He said; ‘Gwilin, you have the whole world ahead of you – go out and be whatever you want.’  So I took his advice, and here I am.  It might not look like much to some… but it makes me happy.”

“Good…”  Saadia said and turned back to Klimmek.  “And what’s High Hrothgar like?”

“I’ve been to the monastery many times, but I’ve never laid eyes on a Greybeard… not sure that I’d care to anyway.”  He told her, “They’re masters of the Thu’um – they could kill you by uttering a single word.  Not that they would – they seem peaceful.” 

“You heard them call Dovahkiin though?”  Saadia asked.

“Yeah, it was a strange day… felt like the whole mountain was going to come down on the town.” 

“Must be hard living in that shadow.”  Saadia said to herself.

“That’s why I don’t want to see them in person.”  Klimmek said, “Wouldn’t want to accidentally provoke them.” 

“Alright, well the day’s wasting.”  Saadia said, looking at the path beyond the bridge.  “Thanks for your help.”  She said to Klimmek.

“The weather is too foul to make an attempt today.”  Klimmek warned, “Perhaps try tomorrow?”

“I have to go today.”  Saadia answered, “I’ve been putting it off for too long. 

“You be careful up there.”  He told her.  “Many pilgrims and warriors alike die on those steps.  I believe I am only granted passage by Kyne because I go with offerings for the Greybeards.”

“I’ll be careful.  Saadia told him and he nodded. 

“Have yourself a great day!”  Gwilin said.

“Thanks.  You too.”  Saadia said.  
Saadia turned to the mountain.  It was huge, steep, and there was a thick layer of cloud around the peak; it looked impossible to scale.  Yet she knew that people lived up there.  And if what she’d heard was true; they could help her understand this… gift. 

 

 


	7. Part 7

The rain started almost as soon as she put her foot on the first step on the other side of the bridge. 

She looked up at the sky as lightning forked out across the darkened skies, thunder rumbling loudly.

“By the Gods, I hope this isn’t a sign.”  She muttered and walked up the first flight of steps.  At the top of them was a small shrine with an etched stone, protected from the elements, flowers and offerings all around it.

Saadia leaned forward and read the etching.

“Before the birth of men, the Dragons ruled all Mundus.  Their word was the Voice and they spoke only for True Needs.  For the Voice could blot out the sky and flood the land.”

Saadia straightened up and felt a strange sense of peace. 

She looked up the mountain path and continued to climb the stairs in the pouring rain, the path turning to a slippery, muddy mess all around her. 

Even so, she made good progress at first, and the town of Ivarstead stretched out beneath her.  She had only a wolf for company… a wolf she’d had to kill after it had attacked her. 

As the path wound higher up the mountain, the rain came down harder and colder, as if reminding her that Humans weren’t meant to be this close to the sky. 

And mountain goats appeared, jumping up the sides of the mountain, largely ignoring the thin, winding path she took amongst the forested, rocky slopes. 

Ivarstead started to look small, and the rain turned to sleet, icy pellets hitting her skin, but still she climbed.  Until she found another shrine, this one with a man sitting in front of it, gently touching the etching. 

“Did you hear the Greybeards call Dovahkiin?”  He asked her as she approached.

“I did.”  Saadia answered.

“Strange days when the monks will do that.”  He said, “I wonder what it means.” 

“Do you visit the Greybeards?”

“They’re not the sort to take visitors.”  He said sagely, “Not that I would go that far up the path anyway.”  He said wistfully.  “Some people-”

But quite suddenly there was a roar, and the air thrummed in a way that Saadia recognised, her heart leaping in fear.  She had never had to take on a Dragon alone…

“DRAGON!”  She yelled at the pilgrim.  “RUN!” 

She turned and took her bow and arrows out just as a spurt of frost breath rained down on her.

She had had no idea that Dragons could breathe frost as well as fire. 

Saadia felt her joints grow rigid with cold, but she fought it, took a healing potion and took aim at the Dragon, firing off three arrows before it flew too high, at least one of the arrows found its mark.  The Dragon circled round and flew above the fleeing pilgrim, taking aim.

“NO!”  Saadia yelled, “FUS!”  She shouted at the Dragon, trying to knock it off guard or get its attention. 

But the Dragon let fly its breath at the pilgrim, freezing him to the spot. 

Saadia yelled in rage and took aim with her bow and arrow again, letting fly dozens of arrows, even as the Dragon circled too high for any of them to hit it. 

She ran to the pilgrim, shooting at the Dragon as she did.

“Take this potion!”  She said to him, only his head and hand were unfrozen.  She tried to hand him a health potion but he shook his head. 

“Save yourself friend.”  He whispered, “But please… do me a parting favour?”

“Anything…”  Saadia said.

“Find… my daughter.  Help her…”  He whispered, “My bag…”  He pointed back to the shrine, “In there… details…” He was dying fast.

“I’ll find her.”  Saadia promised.

“Thank you frien…”  His eyes glazed over and Saadia felt a rush of grief so profound she could hardly contain it. 

And then the rage came.

She screamed in rage and took aim at the Dragon as it swooped down to breathe ice on her.  Her arrow hit in the eye, the next one sailing into its open mouth…

The Dragon flew high again, without returning fire, Saadia watching it closely, her bow trained on it, waiting for a shot.  As soon as it got low enough she let an arrow fly and it sailed higher again, wheeling around to breathe ice on her from up high. 

But Saadia held her ground, screaming as the ice seemed to burn into her flesh, sending arrow after arrow at it, until the beast’s flight wavered and it crashed down to the ground, crawling, staggering up the mountain path, trees bending and cracking under its immense size at it tried to get to her to kill her. 

Saadia drew her greatsword and ran at it, screaming in rage, hacking at its face as soon as she was within range.  

When it could barely move, and its one good eye, wild with fear and pain, rolled at her, the life fading in it, she stood over the Dragon.

“I am Dovahkiin.”  She told it and slammed the sword through its eye. 

Instantly the Dragon started to burn, its soul escaping it and rushing into Saadia.  She stood, sucking in every last drop of the Dragon’s soul, feeling savagely satisfied. 

When it was done, she could feel that she could learn to say one of the 2 Words she didn’t know how to say – she could wield the Dragon’s power into which ever one she wanted.

She chose the second Word she’d ever learned, giving it life with the Dragon soul.

“YOL!”  She shouted, setting the path ablaze with Dragon fire.  She stared at the destruction before her; the Dragon skeleton, the burning trees… and turned back to the lone figure of the unnamed pilgrim, frozen to the spot. 

She ran back to him and touched his face gently.

“I’ll find her.”  She promised again, heading back to the shrine, she knelt before it, her hand going to his bag, her eyes reading the etching.

“Men were born and spread over the face of Mundus.  The Dragons presided over the crawling masses.  Men were weak then, and had no Voice.”  She looked at the pilgrims bag.  “I have a Voice.”  She said fiercely.  She sat in the sleet, and opened his bag.  The first thing she found was a doll.  She started to weep and put the doll in her satchel, she rummaged through the bag, there was nothing of importance in it except for a journal. 

It started by complaining about the traditions of Imperial women when they fall pregnant, and then admitted that he loved his wife and her strange Imperial ways, even if his Nord ways were simpler.  There was a lot of excitement for the baby, and then a passage about a difficult labour, and the birth of a beautiful daughter. 

He went on to talk about wanting to finish some secret work for his brother so that he would have enough money to fix up the baby’s room… the baby… name Lucia. 

Saadia took a deep breath.  There must be hundreds, if not thousands of Imperial children named Lucia…

She read on, his journey to his brother’s house, not telling his Imperial wife, so he could surprise her.  But when he had completed the 3-hour journey there, he found that bandits had taken his brother and his brother’s family hostage.  They took him too, and sold them all into slavery.

Years passed, with only a few sporadic entries, all of them worrying about his daughter and his wife at their farm. 

And then finally he had escaped, and was making his way home. 

Only to find that his wife had died and her sister had turned Lucia out.

Saadia now knew that she had just watched her adopted daughter’s father die. 

She also knew that Lucia’s family farm was Loreius Farm.

He had searched Skyrim for his daughter, arriving in Ivarstead just a few days ago, and wanting to climb some of the 7,000 steps to get a blessing for his quest to find his daughter.  He had been so close to Whiterun; so close to her.

Saadia put the journal in her bag.  She would give this doll and the journal to Lucia when she got home.

And she would pay the people of Loreius Farm a little visit one day…

She took a moment to compose herself and stood up, looking back at the man she didn’t even know the name of.  The man who was Lucia’s father.  He had never run off.  He had tried all this time to get back to his wife and daughter.  Lucia needed to know this.  To know how loved and wanted she was.  Saadia wished she could have told the man before he died that his daughter was alive and safe.

Tears were still dribbling down her face as she began to climb the steps again, feeling a new strength and confidence coursing through her veins.  She didn’t need the Greybeards to tell her – she knew who she was.  She was the Dragonborn.  And she was born to kill Dragonkind. 

The sleet started to flurry like snow, and the light dusting on the ground became thicker as she went higher, but she continued on with determination.

She found another shrine, and she stopped to read the etching.

“The fledgling spirits of men were strong in Old Times.  Unafraid to war with Dragons and their Voices.  But the Dragons only Shouted them down and broke their hearts.”

Saadia understood that she was learning the history of how the Dragon Tongue came to be used by Humans.  And this just solidified her newfound sense of herself. 

The snow and wind married to become a blizzard, Saadia having to fight the storm to continue on, leaning into the wind, every step a fight… and then suddenly the air would clear for a moment… and then just like that the blizzard would begin again and she’d not be able to see anything in front of her. 

The world beneath her, the town of Ivarstead, Whiterun, everything were tiny specks in the distance, and still she climbed.

A pack of ice-wolves met the sharp end of her sword when they thought they could hunt her, but there was nothing else in the white landscape, snow laid thick on everything, obscuring the path.  But Saadia did not falter.  She knew the way. 

She saw another pilgrim at an etched tablet, and Saadia read the tablet, the two women sitting in silent contemplation for some time. 

“Kyne called on Paarthurnax, who pitied man.  Together they taught men to use the Voice.  Then Dragon War raged, Dragon against Tongue.”  Saadia muttered aloud after some time, trying to make sense of it.

“Praise to Kynareth.”  The pilgrim said.

“Why to Kynareth?”  Saadia sked.

“Don’t you know?” The pilgrim asked, “Kyne is the Nord name for Kynareth.”  Saadia felt a surge of adrenalin when she heard the name Kynareth.  “Kyne gifted us with the Thu'um so we could use the language of the Dragons.  Those who learned the Dragon language were called Tongues and they used the power of the Th’um to free Humankind from the control of the Dragons and the wrath of Alduin.”

“Alduin?”

“The first born Dragon, the creator of their civilization, and the world-eater.”  She said, “He will end all time.” 

“Did you hear the Greybeards call Dovahkiin?”  Saadia asked. 

“I was just outside Ivarstead when it happened.”  She said, “It’s an exciting moment; nothing like this has happened in centuries.”

“And you’re a pilgrim?”  Saadia asked.

“Yes.”  She said, “I walk the steps, meditate on the emblems… I make the journey every few years.”  She said.  “Perhaps I will see the Dragonborn?”  She asked and looked back to the etched tablet, “When he answers the call of the Greybeards.”

“Could be a she.”  Saadia answered.

“I do not think so.”  The pilgrim said and gently touched the stone etching.  “Tongues were historically usually men and they continue to all be men to this day; all the Greybeards are.  So I expect that Dragonborns will usually be men as well.” 

“I’ll leave you to it.”  Saadia said, leaving the woman sitting in the snow, and continued her journey up the Throat of the World to High Hrothgar.

An ice troll attacked her near the next shrine, and she killed it with efficient precision, not even pausing before heading on to read the next shrine.”

“Man prevailed, Shouting Alduin out of the world.  Proving for all that their Voice too was strong.  Although their sacrifices were many-fold.”

The blizzard that had eased off began to pick up again, and the stairs became so steep and crumbly that at points Saadia had to use her hands to help climb them.

She slipped more than once, but managed to stay on her feet.  But the path became narrower and narrower, and Saadia knew that she couldn’t afford to slip anymore. 

She knew she might find the going easier if she sheathed her greatsword and used her hands much more than she already was.  But the prevalence of wolves, trolls and even Dragons on this mountain made it prudent to keep her sword at the ready. 

The next shrine was not that far from the last one, and Saadia was sure that the distances between shrines was lessening.

“With roaring Tongues, the Sky-Children conquer.  Founding the First Empire with Sword and Voice.  Whilst the Dragons withdrew from this World.”  Saadia considered this for a moment, the snow raging all around her.  “They got all that power…”  She mused, “And what did they do with it after the Dragons where gone?”

She bent double into the wind and kept going, every step taking effort, the wind pushing her back like ‘Fus’ was being Shouted at her. 

The path was so narrow and the whole of Skyrim seemed to stretch out below her; when she could catch snippets of it between the white-out storm. 

She nearly missed the next shrine, on a small abutment of rock, right at the edge, a vertiginous view behind it. 

“The Tongues at Red Mountain went away humbled.  Jurgen Windcaller began His Seven Year Meditation.  To understand how Strong Voices could fail.”

A powerful gust of wind caught Saadia and she rocked forward towards the cliff, gasping in terror, as her feet went off the edge, dropping her sword she clambered for the edge of the cliff, the icy gale force wind biting into her flesh as she clung on for dear life, her sword clattering down the mountain as she ripped her nails, clawing her way back up onto the path. 

She fell back onto the path on her back, panting, the terror slowly subsiding, and a new fear settling in; she was unarmed now.  She had a bow and arrows, but that would never save her from a troll, a Dragon, or not even a pack of wolves – she just wasn’t skilled enough at archery.

“Archery.”  She groaned. 

She got up and gritted her teeth as the icy wind seemed to cut right through her to the bone… and continued up the mountain. 

It was a very short distance to the next shrine.

“Jurgen Windcaller chose silence and returned.  The 17 disputants could not Shout Him down.  Jurgen the Calm built His home on the Throat of the World.”  She looked up the path, still climbing steeply, but broadening out now.  “Did you have to choose here Jurgen?”  She asked, her teeth starting to chatter with the cold.  She wrapped her arms around herself, running on sheer determination now, she kept going, the snow piling up to waist deep… each step a battle against wind and snow. 

The stairs broadened out again, their quality less rough, and she saw a statue in the likeness of a man… she recognised him – it was Talos.  There was a statue of him in Whiterun.  She saw that he stood above a shrine and she read the etching carefully.

“For years all silent, the Greybeards spoke one name.  Tiber Septim, stripling then, was summoned to Hrothgar.  They blessed and named him Dovahkiin.”  She looked up into the face of the man that ascended to being a God… the face of the man who many believed was her ancestor.  She touched the foot of the statue, moved by the gravity of this moment.

And then she heard it; what she had feared she would hear.  A growl.

She turned to see a pack of wolves.  She could see the walls of High Hrothgar in the distance; she was so close…

The first wolf dove at her and she caught it as it landed on her, trying to bite her throat, Saadia falling on her back with its weight, the other wolves attacking, trying to bite her legs and arms.  She grabbed the wolf’s jaws as it snapped at her, kicking out with her feet at the other wolves.  She forced the wolf’s jaws open, using all the strength she had; trying to break its jaw.

She felt a searing pain in her leg and felt her flesh tearing and kicked out at the other wolves with more fervour, her blood splashing on the snow.  She looked down at them, not sure if she could Shout safely here; what if she hit herself with her own Shout….?

She grunted with effort and finally felt the satisfying crack of the wolf’s jaw, it yelped and whined in pain as she kept forcing its jaws apart until she ripped its whole lower jaw off. 

The wolves slinked away, the pack leader bleeding profusely, its bottom jaw in Saadia’s hand.  She looked down at her ripped open leg and could already see the infection working through her.  The wolves had what looked like Rockjoint; she could see long angry red lines forming up and down her legs from the bite wound: the infection spreading.  This was an incredibly virulent strain of Rockjoint.

“Oh no…” She groaned as she felt the agony rip though her knee joint, her knee growing stiff and bulbous like a huge rock. 

She pulled a spare tunic she had in her satchel out and tore it into a strip which she hastily tied around her thigh tightly, trying to slow down the infection for long enough for her healing to kick in.  The snow started to come down thicker, and the smell of blood was in the air.

And she heard howling.  First to her left, and then to her right.

“Kynareth…”  She said through gritted teeth looking up to the sky, “You might responsible for the gift of the Dragon Tongue… and you may be responsible even for my Kynareth’s Kiss – if that’s what I drank… and you might have wanted me to do all of this… if so – YOU COULD HAVE MADE IT DAMNED LOT EASIER!”  She screamed. 

She saw a wolf moving towards her through the snow.

“YOL!”  She shouted and the wolf caught on fire, her stream of fire igniting it instantly.  But this shout took a lot more energy than ‘Fus’ did.  She had to rest, and she had to get out of the cold. 

She staggered to her feet and turned towards the outline of the walls of High Hrothgar that she could just see through the blizzard.

She could hear wolves moving around her, trying to find a weakness, afraid of her fire breath, but knowing that the Rockjoint was setting in, making it extremely painful, and nigh on impossible to move every joint it affected. 

She came to the final set of stairs, the wind toppling her sideways in front of the last shrine.  A wolf pounced onto her back the minute she was down and she twisted, elbowing it in the muzzle.

“FUS!”  She sent it flying and the other wolves backed off, still dogging her, but not getting close enough for her to attack them.  She saw the last tablet.

The Voice is worship  
Follow the Inner path  
Speak only in True Need

She looked at the words.  But she had no time to contemplate the meaning of these words.  She lowered her head and forced herself to get up again, but her hip was seizing with Rockjoint… and the agony was nearly unbearable, but she tried to share the pain throughout her body with every breath out.

But no matter how much she willed herself to walk, she could not; it was impossible with this leg…

So she crawled, dragging her stiff leg behind her, up the final stairs to the Greybeards, the wolves refusing to go so near to the building. 

She lay on the steps, almost at the top and took a healing potion, allowing her eyes to close.

 

***

 

She woke in a bed, near a fire, her body cold but warming.

She sat up and looked around.  She saw an old man, a grey robe with a hood covering his face as he stirred a pot over the fire, a long, thick grey beard hanging down his chest.

“You found your way to us finally.”  He said softly without turning to her. 

“I finally found my way to myself.”  Saadia answered and he nodded, scooping some of the broth into a cup.  He handed it to her and sat down in a chair next to the bed. 

She drank it and felt instantly warm.  She looked down and saw that her healing had done its job; the Rockjoint was mostly gone. 

“You are quite safe and healthy.”  He said.  “And you are Dragonborn… appearing now, at the turning of the age.”  He looked at her thoughtfully. 

“I am answering your summons.”  Saadia answered and got out of the bed.  

“And we will see if you truly have the gift.”  He answered, “But first finish your soup.” 

They sat in comfortable silence as Saadia finished her soup, looking at the fire, lost in her thoughts of the journey up the mountain. 

When she looked back up, the man was looking at her thoughtfully.  She put her bowl down and nodded that she was ready and he motioned for her to follow him to the entrance courtyard of the fortress. 

“Show us Dragonborn,” He said, as another 3 men dressed as he was, entered the room, “Let us taste of your voice.” 

“Alright…”  Saadia shrugged, “FUS!”  She shouted and the Greybeards all staggered backwards slightly. 

“Dragonborn…”  He said with wonder.  “It is you.  Welcome to High Hrothgar.” 

“Thanks…?”  Saadia wasn’t sure what to say, she looked around at the other 3 men, utterly silent, staring at her. 

“I am Master Arngeir, and I speak for the Greybeards.”  He introduced himself.

“Saadia.”  She answered, looking at the others, waiting for them to speak.  Wondering if the rumours about them never speaking was true. 

“Now tell me Dragonborn… why have you come here?” 

“I want to find out what it means to be Dragonborn.”  Saadia answered honestly. 

“We are here to guide you in that pursuit just as the Greybeards have sought to guide those of the Dragon Blood that came before you.”

“I know I’m not the first Dragonborn…”  Saadia said, “But how many have there been?”  She asked.

“It is true that you are not the first.”  Arngeir answered, “There have been many of the Dragon Blood since Akatosh first bestowed that gift upon mortal-kind.  Some known to us, some unknown; a count cannot be made.”

“I thought it was Kyne?”  Saadia sked.

“Kyne taught mortals how to use the Thu’um.”  Arngeir clarified, “Akatosh granted you Dragon Blood, which is an inborn gift to understand the Dragon Words without years of study.” 

“I understand…”  Saadia wasn’t sure that she did understand.

“Whether you are the only Dragonborn of this age, that is not ours to know.”  He continued, “You are the only one that has been revealed thus far.  That is all I can say.”

“Who are you?  What is this place?”  Saadia asked.

“We are the Greybeards, we follow the Way of the Voice.”  He said simply.  “You stand on High Hrothgar, on the slopes of Kynareth’s sacred mountain: Throat of the World.” 

“Kynareth again.”  Saadia mumbled. 

“Here we commune with the voice of the sky, and strive to achieve balance between our inner and outer selves.”

“Alright…”  Saadia said, trying to take all of this in.  “Well I’m answering your summons.”  She repeated.

“And we are honoured to welcome a Dragonborn to High Hrothgar.”  He said, “We will do our best to try to teach you how to use your gifts so that you can fulfil your destiny.” 

“What is my destiny?”

“That is for you to discover.  We can show you the way, but not the destination.” 

“Alright…”  Saadia mused, “So…”  She tried to think what to say next.  It was like they were testing her, waiting for her to say the right thing.  “I’m ready to learn.”

“You have shown that you are Dragonborn.”  He said, “You have the inborn gift.  But do you have the discipline and temperament to follow the path laid out for you?  Now, that remains to be seen.”  He started to guide her further into the courtyard area at the entrance of the fortress, “Without training, you have already taken the first steps towards projecting your Voice into a Thu’um, a Shout.  Now, let us see if you are willing and able to learn.”  Saadia followed him, trying to soak up every word he said, “When you Shout, you speak in the language of Dragons.  Thus, your Dragon Blood gives you an inborn ability to learn Words of Power.”  Saadia nodded listening to him closely, “All Shouts are made up of three Words of Power.  As you master each Word, your Shout will become progressively stronger.”

“Huh…”  Saadia said thinking of the words she knew… and then she remembered that Dragon at Helgen; it had been Shouting more than just ‘Yol’… and then she was chilled to think that she knew that Shout – the Shout that had been used to destroy Helgen… well at least one third of it. 

“Master Einarth will now teach you ‘Ro,’ the second Word in Unrelenting Force.”  Arngeir continued.  “‘Ro’ means balance in the Dragon tongue.  Combine it with ‘Fus,’ the word for force, to focus your Thu’um more sharply.”  He pointed for her to stand in front of Einarth and Saadia did.

Einarth opened his hands, palms up, focussing his energy, and, looking down at the ground, he spoke a single word.

“Ro.”  A wave of energy blasted through the ground, shaking it violently, and Saadia saw a word, in that familiar, alien language – Dragon Tongue, start to glow on the floor.  She stared at it and felt the familiar pull she felt whenever she as near a Word Wall.  The Word called to her, entering her mind with ease, she learned the Word in seconds. 

“You learn a new Word like a master.”  Arngeir said in awe, and Saadia looked around to see all 4 men staring at her in awe.  “You truly do have the gift.   But learning a Word of Power is only the first step.”  He said, but Saadia knew that; she needed a Dragon soul now.  “You must unlock its meaning through constant practice in order to use it in a Shout.”  He told her and she furrowed her brows; that wasn’t how she ‘unlocked’ words… “Well, that is how the rest of us learn Shouts.”  He said with a small smile, “As Dragonborn, you can absorb a slain Dragon’s life force and knowledge directly.”  Saadia nodded; that sounded more like it.  “As part of your initiation, Master Einarth will allow you to tap into his understanding of ‘Ro.’”

Saadia understood that this meant she wouldn’t need a Dragon soul for this word, and almost instantly she began to feel that power she felt when she killed a Dragon, only all the energy was flowing from Einarth. 

It was still just as pleasurable an experience, even when it came from an old man, rather than the soul of a dead Dragon. 

“Now, let us see how quickly you can master your new Thu’um.”  Arngeir said, “Use your Unrelenting Force shout to strike the targets as they appear.”  Saadia was still in the afterglow of receiving all that knowledge, but she nodded and moved to the centre of the courtyard, the 4 men standing around her.

One of them Shouted;

“FIIK LO SAAH!”

And an image of himself appeared; a shadow.  Saadia aimed her Shout at this image and Shouted both Words; Fus and Ro.  The shadow dissipated instantly and the Greybeard behind it was staggered backwards. 

“Breathe and Focus Dragonborn.”  Arngeir advised, “It will take less energy if you breathe deeply and focus deeper.” 

Saadia took his advice.

They did this several times, Saadia glad to get this chance to master 2 Words; it took more effort and energy to say 2 Words than one.  By the time they were done, all the books on the shelves around the courtyard were pressed up against the walls, the baskets and bowls with them, having being blown away by her voice. 

“You learn quickly.”  Arngeir said when they stopped.  “Impressive.”  The other Greybeards nodded, “Your Thu’um is precise.  You show great promise, Dragonborn.”

“Thank you.”  Saadia said softly.

“We will perform your next trial in the courtyard.  Follow Master Borri.”  Arngeir motioned towards Borri and Saadia nodded, following him towards the outside courtyard. 

Outside the blizzard was still raging, but the courtyard seemed to miss the worst of the storm.  Borri stood in the middle of the courtyard and Arngeir stood to the side, the other 2 Greybeards with him, watching silently. 

“We will now see how you learn a completely new Shout.  Master Borri will teach you ‘Wuld,’ which means Whirlwind.”

Saadia stood in front of Borri and he, like Einarth, focussed his energy and Shouted at the ground in a soft voice.

“Wuld.”

An alarming rumble groaned through the earth until the Word, seemingly burned into the ground, appeared for her.  And the pull of the Word had her… and she knew the Word, just like that… But it was inert and she craved to be able to say it.  She looked up at Borri, hoping that he would do as Einarth had, and give of himself to her. 

“You must hear the Word within yourself before you can project it into a Thu’um.”  Arngeir said, sensing her desire. 

Saadia nodded in reply and took a moment to focus in on the Word burned into her soul; even in this inert state she could feel it humming with power inside of her.  She felt calm and peaceful.  “Now approach Master Borri, and he will gift you his knowledge of ‘Wuld.’”

Saadia was again filled with power and knowledge and she felt her new Word come to life; she could say it now. 

“You feel it?”  Arngeir asked.

“Yes.”  Saadia answered, wondering what it must be like for them; spending years slowly stoking this power to life… when she could do it in mere seconds. 

“Now, we will see how quickly you can master a new Shout.”  Arngeir motioned towards another Greybeard, “Master Wulfgar will demonstrate Whirlwind Sprint.  Then it will be your turn.”  He looked to Borri who had gone to a gate at the end of the courtyard, quite a distance away.  “Master Borri.”  He said, signalling that they were ready.

“BEX!”  He Shouted and the gate opened, but Saadia could see it was on a spring-load, so it would snap shut quite quickly.  She turned to look at Wulfgar, standing beside her.  He gave her a small smile before turning to look at the gate; it was already beginning to close.

“WULD NAH KEST!”  Wulgar Shouted and he was gone, sprinting off across the courtyard at an incredible speed, through the gate before it snapped shut.  

Saadia’s mouth opened in surprise; she was impressed.  But she didn’t know all three words; just the first.  She could never make it that far in the amount of time it took the gate to close. 

“Now, it’s your turn.”  Arngeir said, moving closer to the gate, “Stand next to me.”  He waited for Saadia to be standing next to him, “Master Borri will open the gate.  Use your Whirlwind Sprint to pass through before it closes.”

Saadia nodded that she was ready.

“BEX!”  Borri Shouted.

“WULD!”  Saadia Shouted, her whole body lurched forward at an immense speed, she felt like she had left her lungs behind because she couldn’t catch her breath.

She saw the gate coming up and realised she had to angle herself through it, and hoped she’d be able to at this speed.

And she was through, skidding to a halt on the other side, nearly tipping over with the whiplash of the suddenly ending momentum. 

“Your quick mastery of a new Thu’um is astonishing.”  Arngeir said, “I’d heard the stories of the abilities of Dragonborn, but to see it for myself…”  He shook his head slowly in silent awe.

“I don’t know how I do it – it just happens.”  Saadia said in way of an apology for the years of toil these men went through to learn what she learned in seconds.  “So, what’s next?” 

“You were given this gift by the Gods for a reason.”  Arngeir told her with a sure voice, “It is up to you to determine how best to use it.  You are now ready for your last trial.”  He turned towards the fortress again, Saadia following him, “Retrieve The Horn of Jurgen Windcaller, our founder, from his tomb in the ancient fane of Ustengrav.”

“Alright.”  Saadia answered.

“Remain true to the Way of the Voice, and you will return.”  Before he opened the door he looked up at the fading light.  “But you must stay here tonight.” 

They went inside and guided her through to a small alcove with a fire and a pot already bubbling with delicious smelling food.

“That reminds me; I have some supples from Klimmek.”  She said, taking the bag out of her satchel. 

“Give him our thanks.”  Arngeir said and took the supplies.  He warmed himself in front of the fire, and a bed was brought into the alcove for Saadia, as well as several books, some water and a bowl for washing.  “This will be your space.”  He told her, “Do you have any questions before I return to my studies?”

“So many…”  Saadia said, trying to think of just one.  “Why are the Dragons returning?  Does it have something to do with me?”

“No doubt.”  He said calmly and sat down in front of the fire, still warming his hands.  “The appearance of a Dragonborn at this time is not an accident.  Your destiny is surely bound up with the return of the Dragons.”  He turned his face to her, “You should focus on honing your Voice, and soon your path will be made clear.”  He reassured her. 

“Surely there’s more you can tell me?”

“There is indeed much that we know that you  do not.”  Arngeir confirmed.  “That does not mean that you are ready to understand it.  Do not let your easy mastery of the Voice tempt you into the arrogance of power that has been the downfall of many Dragonborn before you.”

There was a moment of silence while Saadia took his rebuke and mulled it over.

“What does it really mean to be Dragonborn?”  She had a fear in the centre of her being that it meant that there was something wrong with her.  She had been told for most of her life that there was something wrong with her…

“Dragons have the inborn ability to learn and project their Voice.  Dragons also are able to absorb the power of their slain brethren.”  He said slowly, “A few mortals are born with similar abilities — whether a gift or a curse has been a matter of debate down through the centuries.”  He gave her a wry smile, “What you have already learned in a short time took even the most gifted of us years to achieve.”  Saadia again wondered what it must feel like for them to have her here.  “Some believe that Dragonborn are sent into the world by the Gods, at times of great need.  We will speak more of that later, when you are ready.”

“When I’m ready?”  Saadia was getting tired of people with knowledge withholding it from her because they felt like she was some sort of… of whelp!

“You must learn to walk before you can learn to run.”  He said softly and she remembered her mother saying those words to her when she was young. 

“You’re right.”  She sighed, her sudden anger gone as quickly as it had come.  “Alright, so why are Shouts in the Dragon language?”

“Dragons have always been able to Shout.  Language is intrinsic to their very being.”  Arngeir explained, “There is no difference in the Dragon Tongue between debating and fighting.  Shouting comes as naturally to a Dragon as breathing or speaking.”  She was reminded of all the Dragons she had seen; how easily they rained down fire… or ice, on people.  “In mythic times, when mortal-kind was in great need, the goddess Kynareth granted us the ability to speak as Dragons do.”

“Kynareth.”  She whispered to herself, “And Akatosh…”  She focussed her mind back on what Argneir was saying. 

“For most people, long years of training are required to learn even the simplest Shout.  But for you, the Dragon speech is in your blood, and you learn it almost without effort.”

Saadia felt like her cup was overflowing and her mind kept coming back to Kynareth. 

“There are only 4 of you?”  She tried to change the topic, but still get as much knowledge from this man as she could. 

“Five.”  He answered and Saadia furrowed her brows; she’d only seen the 4 men.  “Our leader, Paarthurnax, lives alone on the peak of the Throat of the World.”

“Oh…”

“When your Voice can open the path, you will know you are ready to speak to Paarthurnax.” 

“Alright.”  Saadia wanted to get her Voice to be as powerful as possible as quickly as possible.  She suddenly realised, that the very thing she’d been resisting; her identity as the Dragonborn, was the very thing she was deeply excited and invested in now.  That was what this journey had given her more than anything. 

“Tell me more about the Greybeards?”  She asked curiously. 

“We study the Way of the Voice, according to the teachings of our founder, Jurgen Windcaller.”  He stirred the pot of food, “Very few are permitted to study with us here at High Hrothgar.  But in your case, Dragonborn, it is a privilege to guide you towards mastery of your Voice.”

“Thanks.”  She said, wondering if Ulfric Stormcloak had been permitted to study here.  How else did he learn the Thu’um?  She had a feeling that Arngeir would not answer questions about the other people they had allowed to study here, so she didn’t bother asking.

“Why don't the others talk?”  She asked instead.

“Their Voices are too powerful for anyone not trained in the Way to withstand.  Even a whisper could kill you.”

“Wow…”  She wondered if she would ever have such a powerful Voice.  “What is the ‘Way of the Voice’?”

“The Voice was a gift of the Goddess Kynareth, at the dawn of time.  She gave mortals the ability to speak as Dragons do.”  Saadia nodded; she knew that much.  “Although this gift has often been misused, the only true use of the Voice is for the worship and glory of the Gods.”  Saadia tried not to pull a face; she had no intention of using this power to only worship the Gods.  She had some Dragons to slay.  “True mastery of the Voice can only be achieved when your inner spirit is in harmony with your outward actions.  In the contemplation of the sky, Kynareth's domain, and the practice of the Voice, we strive to achieve this balance.”

“But I don't follow your philosophy.  Why help me learn the Voice?”

“The Dragonborn is an exception to all the rules — the Dragon Blood itself is a gift of the Gods.”  Saadia was reminded of Vilkas’s assertion that she herself was descendant from a God… this was getting a little out of hand – she didn’t even know if she believed in all this Gods stuff.  “If we accept one gift, how can we deny the other?  As Dragonborn, you have received the ability to Shout directly from Akatosh.  We therefore seek to guide you on the proper use of your gift, which transcends the restrictions which bind other mortals.”

“So I’m outside of the rules…?”  She asked, not sure if she liked that… worried that she might like it too much.

“In some ways.” 

They sat in silence for a while, his keen eyes on her while she mulled things over. 

After a while, her mind turned to the task she had to do for him; retrieving the horn of Jurgen WIndcaller. 

“Who was Jurgen Windcaller?”

“He was a great war leader of the ancient Nords, a master of the Voice, or Tongue.  After the disaster of Red Mountain, where the Nord army was annihilated, he spent many years pondering the meaning of that terrible defeat.”  Some of the plaques at the shrines made a little more sense now, “He finally came to realise that the Gods had punished the Nords for their arrogant and blasphemous misuse of the Voice.  He was the first to understand that the Voice should be used solely for the glory and worship of the Gods, not the glory of men.  Jurgen Windcaller's mastery of the Voice eventually overcame all opposition, and the Way of the Voice was born.”  He stood up, “Are there any other question, Dragonborn?”

“Have you heard of something called Kynareth’s Kiss?”  She asked.

“Indeed.”  He smiled, “It is said to heal all ills; even Dragon fire and ice.  The effect it has on the drinker, grows stronger as the drinker grows stronger.”  His eyes twinkled with a deep knowledge, “It is said to be impossible to make since-”

“Since the Snow Elves were defeated…”  Saadia sighed.  He had told her nothing new about that.

“Since it requires the blessing of Kynareth herself.”  Arngeir corrected, “Many wrongly believe that waters blessed by a shrine of Kynareth will suffice.  They will not.  The Goddess herself must bless them.  And she does this blessing, using her very own blood.”

“So the person making the potion has to be able to call a God down to Skyrim to bleed for them to bless some water.”

“Indeed.”  Agneir said with an amused smile.  “It is time to rest Dragonborn.  The Rockjoint is still not completely healed, and you have quite a journey ahead of you tomorrow.  Sleep is what you need now.”  Saadia nodded, she could feel the ache in her joints.  Sleep would be good.  “Sky above.  Voice within.”  He said in way of a farewell, and left her to her alcove.  She served up some food and ate, looking over the books they’d loaned her, wanting to sleep but finding sleep hard to come by; her mind was too busy going over everything she’d learned.

 

***

 

Saadia left High Hrothgar the next morning at dawn, feeling naked without her greatsword, but determined to make it down the mountain in one piece; she’d have to buy a new weapon somewhere, or perhaps one of the things she’d found in the barrow would suffice.

She saw where she had collapsed on the stairs the day before; dry blood and the wolf’s jaw bone.  She stepped out into the early morning sun; it was a beautiful, clear day today.  She looked up at the sky.

“You couldn’t do this yesterday?”  She asked the sky; Kynareth’s domain.  “Or was that a trial too?”  She said thinking of the trial Argneir had given her.  “Probably more Nordic ruins.”  She grumbled as she picked up the wolf’s jaw bone and looked at it.  She looked up over the snow and saw a slumped form over to the side, near the cliff edge, a small stain of bright red near one end of it.

She realised that it was the wolf that used to own the jawbone in her hand. 

She slowly approached the wolf.  She could see other wolves in the distance, circling around, not wanting to get close to High Hrothgar but wanting to be with their alpha.  She could hear their whining and felt a deep sympathy for them. 

The alpha wolf groaned and whimpered as she approached, weak and close to death.  It tried to edge away, but the cliff was beside it.  It tried to growl, but it didn’t have the energy.  Instead it stayed slumped, looking up at her with pitiful eyes. 

She stroked its fur gently, the other wolves stopping to stare, growling at her, but still too afraid to come too close to the fortress. 

If she had had her sword, she would have given the poor creature a quick death.  But she didn’t.

“I’m sorry.”  She whispered to it.  “But it was you or me.” 

It groaned softly. 

And Saadia had an idea. 

She rolled the exhausted wolf onto its side, the other wolves of the pack frantically pacing nearby.  She carefully placed the jawbone back in place and poured the strongest healing potion she had over it.  The bone slowly healed, the fur growing back over it, the wolf lying still with its eyes closed.  She put some of the potion in her hand and gently trickled it into the wolf’s mouth, the wolf licking it softly from her fingers. 

It took a few minutes, but slowly the wolf healed and it sat up and looked Saadia in the face. 

There was a long moment of silence before the alpha howled, the other wolves returned the howl, and the pack took off, without a backward glance. 

Saadia watched them go, wanting some distance between them and herself before she started the journey down the mountain. 

The trek down was, unsurprisingly, faster than the trek up.  Not only was the weather clearer and warmer, but the downward momentum helped. 

About a quarter of the way down she was attacked by an ice troll.  It jumped down from a rocky ledge above and scratched at her with its huge claws.  And then out of nowhere the wolf pack attacked; viciously attacking the troll until it lay on the ground; a bloody mangled mess.  And they were gone as quickly as they had shown up.

She had a feeling she wouldn’t have any troubles heading down the mountain; and she didn’t. 

But when she came to the place Lucia’s father had died, she noted that the wolves had made short work of him, leaving very little to tell the tale.  She supposed she couldn’t blame them; they had to eat.  But still, she lingered, wanting to pay her respects to this man.

She climbed through the bones of the dragon and in the middle of them, sticking with its tip piercing the soft ground was her greatsword.  She picked it up with joy; it had fallen all this way and landed here like this… it felt like a sign. 

It was late afternoon when she got back to the inn. 

She went in to get some food and saw Klimmek and some guy arguing, it sounded like it was over a woman.  Saadia decided that if they needed help they’d ask, instead she just told Klimmek that the Greybeards sent their thanks.  The look on his face was of pure joy. 

Saadia sat down at the bar and ordered her food and drink.

“How was your journey friend?”  Willhelm asked, others gathering around to find out the gossip.

“It was good.”  Saadia said, “I answered their summons, I learned a lot, I stayed the night, I think I made friends with a wolf pack, and here I am now.”  She shrugged.

“They summoned you?”  Lynly Star-strung, the inn’s bard and expert lute-player asked.  “But that means…”

There was a silence as everyone caught up with that.

“Dragonborn…”  Klimmek whispered. 

“Is my room still good for tonight?”  Saadia ignored the shocked silence surrounded her.  Willhelm was staring with wide eyes and then he nodded.

“Um… yes!  Of course!”  He said, “Let me clean it up for you first.”

“No that’s fine.”  Saadia said, “I’m going to read a few books I borrowed from the Greybeards in my room.  Can you bring in some bathwater now and dinner at around 7?”

“Absolutely.”  He beamed and Saadia gave him a nod and headed to her room.

Saadia went to her room and went through all the things she had that needed selling. 

She opened up the ‘Book of the Dragonborn’ that she had borrowed from the Greybeards.  She had found a copy of this book at Helgen and given it to Hadvar without reading it, now she flicked through the pages, her mind not really on reading, but picking up a few snippets throughout the book anyway.

“Akatosh, looking with pity upon the plight of mortals, drew precious blood from his own heart, and blessed St. Alessia with this blood of Dragons, and made a Covenant that so long as Alessia's generations were true to the Dragon Blood, Akatosh would endeavour to seal tight the Gates of Oblivion, and to deny the armies of Daedra and undead to their enemies, the Daedra-loving Ayleids.  Those blessed by Akatosh with ‘the Dragon Blood’ became known more simply as Dragonborn.”

Saadia flicked forward a few more pages and saw something that piqued her interest.

“The line of Septims have all been Dragonborn, of course, which is one reason the simplistic notion of it being hereditary has become so commonplace.  But we know for certain that the early Cyrodilic rulers were not all related.  There is also no evidence that Reman Cyrodiil was descended from Alessia, although there are many legends that would make it so, most of them dating from the time of Reman and likely attempts to legitimize his rule.”  She grinned with satisfaction, “I knew Vilkas was wrong…”  She muttered as she skipped forward a few lines, “And of course there is no known hereditary connection between Tiber Septim and any of the previous Dragonborn rulers of Tamriel.”  She knew that this didn’t prove Vilkas wrong exactly; she could still be related to Tiber Septim, otherwise known as Talos… but it did disprove the notion that she MUST be related to him.  “I’m going to show him this book.”  She said, skipping forward to the end.  “The Prophecy of the Dragonborn: When misrule takes its place at the eight corners of the world, when the Brass Tower walks and Time is reshaped, when the thrice-blessed fail and the Red Tower trembles, when the Dragonborn Ruler loses his throne, and the White Tower falls, when the Snow Tower lies sundered, kingless, bleeding, the World-Eater wakes, and the Wheel turns upon the Last Dragonborn.”

Saadia was left with a feeling of deep disquiet as she re-read the prophecy.  She didn’t understand any of it and she didn’t like the way it made her feel.

She snapped the book shut and almost flung it into the fire.  Instead she shoved it in her satchel and pulled out a different book.

But there was a knock at the door before she even had a chance to look at it. 

“Yes?”  She asked and Lynly Star-Strung, the bard, edged her way in with a large bowl of steaming hot water. 

“Your bath water Ma’am.”  She said with her eyes lowered.  She put it on the table and stood before Saadia.

“Thank you.”

“Do you need anything more?”  She asked.

“No I’m fine.”  Saadia responded.

“I could sing to you.”  She said, “Or help you with your armour.”  She approached and started to unlace Saadia’s armour slowly.

Saadia looked at Lynly and she smiled coyly, slowly pulling the lace out, letting it run slowly from her fingers before pulling the lace again, loosening Saadia’s armour a little bit at a time. 

“What songs do you know?”  Saadia asked. 

“I had a Breton neighbour when I was younger, she used to sing the most beautiful songs…”  She said and then broke out into a beautiful clear-voiced song, “Oh the summer time has come, and the trees are sweetly blooming, and the wild mountain thyme, grows around the purple heather…”  she walked slowly around the front of Saadia to continue unlacing her armour, Saadia’s eyes staying on her face.  “Will ye go lassie go?”  She made eye contact with Saadia, “And we’ll all go together, to pull wild mountain thyme, all around the blooming heather… will ye go lassie go?”

“That’s beautiful.”  Saadia said, her eyes still locked on Lynly’s. 

“Thank you Ma’am.”  Lynly said, “I saw you watching me play flute.”

“You have deft fingers on that instrument.”  Saadia noted.

“I have deft fingers.”  Lynly said suggestively.  Saadia cocked an eyebrow but Lynly just gave her another coy grin, before beginning the next verse of the song.  “I will build my love a bower, by yon clear crystal fountain.  And on it I will pile, all the flowers of the mountain, will ye go lassie go?”  Her eyes never left Saadia’s even as she finished unlacing the armour and Saadia slipped it off to reveal her thin tunic underneath.  “And we’ll all go to together.”  Lynly sang in a whisper as she leaned closer and slowly lifted Saadia’s tunic, “To pull wild mountain thyme,” She slipped Saadia’s tunic off and started working on her pants, “all around the blooming heather.  Will ye go lassie go?”  Saadia continued to watch her in silence as she worked and sang, eventually removing all of Saadia’s clothing and sat her down.  “I took the liberty of warming up the water Ma’am.”  Lynly said as she took the wash cloth and some soap and dipped them in the bowl.  “It can get cold in the shadow of the mountain.” 

“You’re very thoughtful.”  Saadia said as Lynly gently placed her wet hand on Saadia’s shoulder, the soapy cloth in her other hand gently washing Saadia’s skin.  “You know you don’t have to wash me…”  Saadia said gently, “I don’t expect-”

“I want to.”  Lynly answered, facing Saadia, “From the first minute I saw you…”  Lynly blushed but still bent down over the sitting Saadia to bring their faces closer together, “I wanted to taste y-” But she didn’t give herself any time to finish the sentence; she hadn’t been able to stop herself from kissing Saadia.  “I’m sorry…”  She whispered when she stopped, her hand on Saadia’s neck, water from the washcloth dripping down Saadia’s breasts. 

“I assume you mean for stopping?”  Saadia said slyly and Lynly raised an eyebrow and sat down seductively in Saadia’s lap, slowly wiping the soapy cloth across her shoulder, her eyes on Saadia’s. 

“Stopping what Ma’am?”  Lynly asked in a pretence of innocence while she let the cloth trail down to Saadia’s breasts, her other arm slowly lacing around Saadia’s muscled shoulders. 

“My mistake.”  Saadia went along with the game, “You’re the very picture of innocence.”

“And naivety.”  Lynly said, unable to keep the sly grin from kissing the corner of her lips as her fingers gently squeezed Saadia’s nipple. 

“I’m sure you have no idea what you’re doing to me…”  Saadia agreed.

“I’m just bathing you Ma’am.”  Lynly whispered, “Like all those rich Lords and Ladies, with their servants who draw baths for them, and scrub their backs…”  She said and gently pulled on Saadia’s nipple. 

“But I’m not rich…”  Saadia pretended to protest.

“Oh no!”  Lynly said, “Well then… perhaps I can’t bathe you?”  She said, tossing the washcloth into the water and instead using her bare hand on Saadia’s breasts, her fingers slipping through the soap suds as she gently squeezed them.

“But I’m so dirty, and I need to get clean…”  Saadia pleaded.

“Well I suppose I can do you a favour.”  Lynly sighed, “But then… you’ll owe me a favour.”

“Well what’s a few favours between women?”  Saadia said as Lynly got up and pulled on her hand, getting her to stand. 

“Not a thing.”  Lynly answered, guiding Saadia to the wash bowl.  Saadia understood that this was a no-strings-attached kind of deal, probably a one-off experience.

And she had no problems with that; that’s how she liked it. 

Lynly took the washcloth and continued to wash Saadia, singing snippets of song in a sensual, breathy voice, her hands sliding over Saadia’s strong body, her body pressing against Saadia, getting her dress wet, the material clinging to her. 

“Your dress is getting wet.”  Saadia noted.

“Oh dear…”  Lynly feigned concern. 

“You better take it off and put it out to dry.” 

“That seems reasonable.”  Lynly answered as Saadia unlaced her corset.  “Probably the only course of action open to me, really…” Lynly slipped her dress off and tossed it across the room.  “Now where was I?”  She asked as she continued to wash Saadia, her hand slipping down over Saadia’s plump stomach to her kunte.  “Very important cleaning work…”  She said, Saadia closing her eyes as Lynly’s finger slid through her pubic hair, her other hand using the cloth to wipe the soap suds from Saadia’s breasts.

“Yes get back to work.”  Saadia pretended to command and Lynly chuckled, Saadia enjoying the sound of her laughter.

Lynly moved her mouth down to Saadia’s breasts, her fingertips finding Saadia’s clitoris. 

She dropped the washcloth and all pretence was dropped, Saadia’s hands went to Lynly’s hips as the beautiful blond woman’s fingers slid inside of Saadia, her teeth pinching Saadia’s nipple deliciously. 

Lynly pushed Saadia back, Saadia sitting on the table so Lynly could stand between her legs, her dextrous fingers lovingly tapping out a pattern on Saadia’s clit while simultaneously sliding in and out of her wet kunte. 

And Saadia kissed her soft sweet lips, her tongue sliding sinuously against Lynly’s, both women breathless with desire. 

“Very deft hands…”  Saadia breathed, her lips brushing Lynly’s, a flood of pleasure building up inside of her.  Lynly squeezed Saadia’s clit between her ring and middle finger, her thumb tapping a syncopated rhythm on the tip of Saadia’s clit, while her forefinger slid around inside of Saadia, caressing her erogenous zones expertly. 

She brought Saadia right to the brink of orgasm and then stopped, chuckling at the look Saadia gave her.

“Shhh.”  She put her fingers on Saadia’s lips to silence her protest, before kissing her way down Saadia’s body, Saadia leaning back on her elbows, wanting this beautiful woman’s mouth on her kunte. 

Instead she slipped to her knees, her hands trailing down Saadia’s body until they went to her feet.  Lynly drew patterns on Saadia’s skin, her lips kissing a sensitive spot on her ankle; Saadia’s whole body felt more sensitive because of the near orgasm, and she felt a heightened sense of bliss, like her whole body was floating in pleasure, dancing along the precipice that would tumble her into orgasm.  Lynly kept her balanced perfectly, stimulating sensitive places for just long enough for the pleasure in Saadia’s body to build a little more, then a little more. 

Her mouth travelled up Saadia’s calf, her fingers gently tickling behind Saadia’s knee, sending shivers of delight through her body; Saadia simultaneously feeling the heat of desire burning through her blood and the shivers of cool delight dancing across her skin. 

The woman could play a woman’s body like she played the lute.

Expertly.

And with passion.

Lynly kissed along Saadia’s inner thighs, pausing at her kunte, her breath hot, tingles of anticipation bubbling in Saadia’s veins… But Lynly moved up, kissing her pelvis, her stomach; Saadia groaning in frustration, but somehow the pleasure was mounting, growing, increasing, making Saadia’s breaths come in long ragged gasps, her need for release intense. 

Lynly’s fingers meandered in swirling patterns up Saadia’s sides, lingering on her breasts before a sharp pinch of each nipple – the gentle caresses broken by the small jab of pain, heightening Saadia’s pleasure and sense of urgency.

But Lynly continued her drawn out love letter to Saadia’s body, her fingers tracing along Saadia’s collarbone, and shivering along her neck before she kissed Saadia deeply, licking and biting her lips, Saadia pulling her closer, desperate to taste more of her, desperate to be allowed to orgasm; she didn’t think she could wait any longer... 

And then Lynly flicked her clitoris and orgasm began to slowly roll through her body.  Lynly dove down and sucked Saadia’s clitoris, licking it, slurping at her kunte, her fingers diving into her quaking kunte, the rolling orgasm becoming shuddering, shaking earthquake of unadulterated pleasure, Saadia practically screaming in bliss. 

Saadia was left gasping for air, hardly able to believe what she had experienced. 

There was no way she could return that favour; she hadn’t the skill.  

She sat up and slid off the table, her knees so weak she was hardly able to believe she could hold herself up. 

But Lynly took her hand, smiled seductively at her and led her to the bed.

“The best thing about making love with a woman is that we have no need to stop.”  Lynly said, “And of course everything about us!”  She added with a laugh. 

“I’ve never-”

“You’ve never been with a woman?”  She asked, gently stroking Saadia’s jawline.

“Oh I’ve been with a woman, I’ve just never… well I’ve never experienced that before.”  Saadia admitted and Lynly looked pleased, “And I’ve never actually seen another kunte in my life.” 

“Oh… you’ve been missing out.”  Lynly smiled.  “Let me teach you everything I possibly can in one night.”  Pushing her back and crawling up her body until her knees were on either side of Saadia’s head.

She smelled intoxicating, and Saadia ran her hands down Lynly’s thighs as she took a deep breath in.

There was a knock on the door.

“Dinner…”  Said Willhelm. 

“I’ll come out for it in a little bit.”  Saadia answered.  Lynly had been pleasuring her for nearly 2 hours… it had felt like perhaps 20 minutes at most. 

They waited for a moment, both of them looking at the door and then Lynly looked down at Saadia.

“Do you want to taste me?”

“Yes.”  Saadia whispered, leaning up towards Lynly’s kunte.

“Not yet.”  Lynly said, “You must know that what you have to offer is magnificent, and worth waiting for… make me wait for it… but keep me interested.” 

“But I want it now.”  Saadia said with a laugh.

“I didn’t say teasing someone was easy.”  Lynly said, “Often you end up teasing yourself just as much.” 

It was half an hour before Saadia got her first salty sweet taste of kunte.  She liked it.  A lot. 

 

***

 

“Oh I forgot dinner!”  Saadia laughed. 

They were lying naked, above the blankets, sweaty and hot even though it was a chilly night, arms and legs entwined, faces close together, eyes closed, happy smiles. 

“I’ll go get it.”  Lynly said, stretching and getting up.  She slipped her dress on, Saadia watching her with hungry eyes; she’d have that woman again before the morning, no doubt about it.

They ate the meal, talking, getting to know each other.

“Were you born here?”

“Oh Gods no.”  Lynly said, “I find it so boring here.  I miss-” She stopped herself, “I miss where I came from.”  Saadia understood that Lynly was hiding from her past.  Saadia didn’t press for details; she was hiding from hers too. 

“What made you come here?”  Saadia asked, cutting some wedges off an apple and handing them to her. 

“I fell in love… with a man.”  She shook her head, “Like most people in Skyrim, I like people regardless of their sex or gender, but I’d always had a strong preference for women.”  She explained, “But there was something about him.  A danger that turned me on.  I just didn’t realise that he’d turn what made him feel dangerous, on me.”  She looked down, Saadia could see there was a lot of pain associated with this whole event.  “I try to think what it was I loved so much about him… he was passionate, confident, powerful, strong.  Like you in some ways.”  She said, “But so unlike you in most ways.”  She took a sip of mead, “He came from a wealthy family that everyone said was bad… trouble.  But I didn’t want to believe rumours; you never know a person’s true story unless you know them… even then they can keep things from you.” 

“He was as bad as his family?”  Saadia asked, “As the rumours?”

“Worse.”  She said and shuddered slightly, “I had to leave because of his violence.  Only man I ever loved and he was… evil.”  She looked sad, broken, scared.  “I haven’t really wanted to touch a man since.”  She said, “And I don’t mind… I’d never wanted to touch a man before him really, so I guess things are back to normal… except I live here now.” 

“Will he kill you if he finds you?”

“Yes.”  She answered.  “And his family is too powerful and well connected for me to stop him.”  She said. 

“I understand.”  Saadia said feeling a deep empathy with this woman.  “And you’re safe here?”

“I think so.”  She said with a smile. 

“Well if you ever need help?”

“You’d help me?”  She asked, touched by Saadia’s offer.

“Of course.” 

“You don’t meet too many people willing to help a mediocre bard in a backwater town.”  She said.

“You’re not mediocre.”  Saadia protested.  

“I need to go to the Bard’s College.”  She sighed, “But it’s too expensive, I can’t get to Solitude.”  Lynly sighed.  “Maybe one day.  Or perhaps I’ll become a tutor; I have the skills for it.”  She moved the plates aside.  “But there’s only a few hours of this night left…”  She said with a teasing glint in her eye, “And I think we both want more…”

“You’re so right.”  Saadia said before kissing Lynly passionately, their lips pressing together hard. 

“Hmmm.”  Lynly groaned. “You can kiss like a warrior and like a princess… I like it.” 

“And you know how to hold someone in the palm of your hands; like the great bards.”  Saadia returned. 

“Let’s write music together…”  Lynly sighed as they fell into bed together again. 

 

***

 

It was a fond farewell with Lynly, when Saadia set out the next morning to retrieve this horn for the Greybeards.  The forest was green, the sun warm, the bees buzzing around the flowers, and-

“VICTORY OR SOVNGARDE!” 

Saadia jumped and turned to see who had screamed.  She saw a hunter, a dagger held high, chasing after a rabbit, three other hunters with him.

She stared for a moment, her eyes open wide in confusion until they were out of sight, over the crest of a hill.

“Rabbits must be tougher here than anywhere else in Tamriel.”  She muttered and continued on, making sure to stay away from where the hunters had gone.  She didn’t need to be part of that – whatever it was.

Saadia had gone over the map while eating breakfast; Borri had marked where the horn of Jurgen Windcaller could be found on it.  It was a long way away; a place she’d never even been anywhere near before. 

At least she’d get to stop by Riverwood and Whiterun on the way there.  Get to see her friends and family, sell off some gear… talk to Farkas…

Hadvar was all healed, on leave from the imperial legion for a few months; he wanted to help fortify Riverwood as best he could, and the Imperial army had agreed that it was worth him trying. 

Camilla and Faendal were officially courting, but Camilla was still dreading telling him about her secret.  She had been dropping hints, but still found herself too afraid he’d reject her to say it outright.  Her affection for him however, had grown in leaps and bounds.  Saadia believed her to be deeply in love. 

She knew she’d be spending a few days in Whiterun, so she only stayed one night with Alvor and Sigrid, enjoying their hospitality, filling Dorthe’s head with tales, and talking with Hadvar into the night. 

Even though she hated leaving Riverwood, she turned to Whiterun with a smile on her face.  She was going home. 

She got into Whiterun late at night and went home immediately.  Lucia was sleeping, but Lydia had awoken the minute the front door had opened.

As soon as Saadia saw Lydia she gave her a huge hug.  Lydia, taken aback, took a moment to return the hug.

“Long life to you Thane.”  Lydia said in a muted voice; neither of them wanting to wake Lucia. 

“How’s everything been?”

“You were missed my Thane.”  Lydia answered simply, “But we got by.”

“I missed you both too.”

“It was not just us that missed you.”  Lydia said delicately.

“Farkas?”

“He and Vilkas came by every day to see Lucia.”  Lydia answered, “He didn’t say anything, but… it was obvious that he was awaiting your return with as much keen interest as Lucia was.” 

Saadia sighed and got herself the flagon of wine Lydia kept on the top shelf.

“I have a lot of talking to do over the next few days.”  She said and poured herself a cup of wine.  She sat down for a small meal and Lydia sat with her. 

“And then where to?”  Lydia asked, still torn between her duties.

“I have to get the horn of Jurgen Windcaller.”  Saadia said around a mouthful of cold baked potato. 

“That is a great honour.”

“Oh everything’s an honour to Nords.”  Saadia answered.

“You are half Nord.”  Lydia reminded her and Saadia grunted in reply, “You certainly have the stubbornness of us Nords.”  Lydia said with a small smile, “My Thane.”  Saadia chuckled silently at the tone Lydia used, “And besides it’s better to have no coin than no honour.”  Lydia added. 

“No coin means no food for my daughter.”  Saadia answered, “I’d rather have both.”

“A wise choice.”

“Alright, I’m heading to bed after this meal.  You should go up too.” 

“I’ll sleep easier knowing you’re here, my Thane.” 

 

***

 

“Mama!  You’re home!”  Lucia jumped onto the bed, starting Saadia awake. 

“Yes!”  Saadia tried not to sound groggy and sat up.  “By the Gods what time is it?” 

“It’s 5.”  Lucia answered.

“You get up early.”  Saadia yawned.

“A disciplined life is a disciplined mind is a disciplined body is…”  Lucia paused, “I can’t remember the rest of it…”

“Alright, but maybe you shouldn’t take everything Skjor says to heart.”  Saadia said; only Skjor could have said something like that to her. 

“Irileth taught me that.”

“Of course.”  Saadia said shaking her head, “Of course it was her.”  Saadia settle Lucia into a hug, “But don’t forget to be a kid too.  You’re an adult for a long time… if you’re lucky.  And being a kid is so much fun… If you’re lucky.” 

“I’m lucky.”  Lucia said.

“You know that you’re loved right?”

“Yeah.”  Lucia nodded. 

“And not just by me.”

“Lydia loves me.”

“Yes.”  Saadia agreed, “And a lot of the Companions do.”

“Njada hates me.”

“Njada hates everyone, don’t worry about it.”  Saadia told her, “But not just the people in your life now.”

“You mean my mama before she died?”  Lucia asked.

“She still loves you, wherever she is now.”  Saadia said, looking at her satchel on the bedside table.  “And you father loves you.”

“Papa ran off.”  Lucia said, “If he loved me; why’d he do that?”

“He didn’t run off.”  Saadia said gently, “He was secretly doing some work with his brother to make enough money to renovate your room and to keep your mother happy.”  Lucia looked up at Saadia, a look of confusion on her face.  Saadia knew she had to continue.  “He was captured by some very bad people; bandits, who sold him and his brother into slavery.”  Lucia’s eyes grew wide, “When he managed to escape, he came looking for you, only to find you had been thrown out of your home by your aunt and uncle.”  Saadia reached over to the satchel and took out the doll and journal.  “This doll was for you.”  Saadia handed the doll to Lucia, “And this is his journal.”  Lucia looked down at the tattered book.  “He was still looking for you when…”  Saadia didn’t know how to tell the girl this.  She had had enough devastation in her life. 

“He’s dead isn’t he?”  The girl asked with tears in her eyes.

“I tried to save him, but a Dragon got him.”  Saadia answered.

“A Dragon?”  Lucia asked in a mix of fear and awe, “No one can stop a Dragon, mama.”

“I can.”  Saadia answered, “I killed the Dragon that killed your father and absorbed its soul.”  She said and Lucia’s mouth opened in surprise, “I just wasn’t quick enough to save him.  And I’m so sorry Lucia.”

Lucia stared at Saadia in silence for a long moment.

“He’d have just taken me away from you.”  Lucia whispered, “And I don’t even know him.”  Saadia remembered that he had disappeared when Lucia had been just a baby. 

“The adoption papers I have for you mean that no one can ever take you away from me.”  Saadia reassured her and Lucia gave her a big hug.  “I’d have worked something out with your father so you could have had him too.   I’m so sorry Lucia.”

“It’s okay mama.”  Lucia said softly, tears on her cheeks. 

 

***

 

Saadia opened the doors to Jorrvaskr with considerably more trepidation than she’d expected. 

Instantly she saw them.  Farkas sitting, looking at the fire, slumped, and his brother leaning over him, saying something, his hand on his shoulder. 

Vilkas looked up at the door while he was still speaking, to see who had entered.  He stopped mid word and nudged his brother.

Farkas turned to look and stood the minute he saw her, Saadia tried not to be too obvious when she took a deep breath before approaching them.

“How was your journey?”  Vilkas asked with a slightly guarded tone. 

“I think I made friends with a wolf pack after I healed their alpha.”  Saadia answered, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing all about what had happened with the Greybeards just yet.

“There’s no alpha in wolf packs.”  Vilkas answered, “Wolf packs are a breeding pair, who mate for life, and their offspring, who stay with their parents until they find someone they want for life.”  He said simply.

“How would you know th-?”  But Saadia stopped herself when Vilkas raised an eyebrow.  “Similar with…?”  She nodded towards him.

“Yes it’s similar with our kind - for the feral ones.”  He said with a soft voice so no one could hear them, “But for those of us that are not feral, the customs and thoughts and desires of our Human half usually override the instincts of the wolf half in that regard.” 

“So… not mating for life?”  Saadia asked and Vilkas shrugged.

“Depends on the wolf, just like it depends on the person.”  He answered.  Farkas looked down as they spoke, noticing that she was yet to speak to him.  “You saved one of the parents of the pack.”  Vilkas added. 

“She was a female.” Saadia noted.

“And at this time of the year she’d be carrying.”  Farkas said.

“So you saved the mother and the next generation of cubs for that pack.”  He noted, “They will be indebted to you for life.” 

“I had no idea there was so much honour amongst wolves.”

“Oh yes.”  Vilkas said seriously.  “I had best leave you two to talk.”  He said and turned to go.

“I’ll need to talk to you later, when I get back.”  Saadia said and Vilkas gave her a surprised look before nodding and leaving them. 

Saadia sat down beside Farkas and he sat down too, both of them staring at the fire. 

“Where you ever going to tell me?”  She asked him in a low voice.

“We shouldn’t discuss this here.”  Farkas answered.

“If we go to your room we’ll end up rutting.”  She answered and Farkas gave her a look of hope; perhaps she would forgive him.

“I wanted to tell you.”  He answered softly, “But I was sworn to secrecy.  I could not betray the Circle.”

“You’re a man of honour and loyalty.”  Saadia said and then looked at him thoughtfully.  “Do you love it like your brother does?”

“Vilkas hates it.”  Farkas answered with a confused expression.

“My mistake.”  Saadia answered, realising that Vilkas had told her something he had told no one else.  “I must have misinterpreted something he said.”  Farkas nodded, taking her at her word, “But do you love it?”  She asked again. 

Farkas hesitated, unsure.

“I don’t hate it… I like the power and strength and…”  He answered eventually.  “But Kodlak says it’s bad for the soul.  And I trust him.”  Farkas answered.

“Men have often received bad advice from another's heart.”  Saadia answered and Farkas gave her another quizzical look, “I mean to say that just because something is good or bad for one person, it doesn’t mean it’s the same for another.”  Saadia explained, “For Kodlak this is a curse; and that’s fine, that’s his experience of it… but if for you it’s… powerful and good… then maybe that’s what it is… because you and Kodlak are different people.”

“Vilkas says-”

“You don’t always have to do what Vilkas says.”  Saadia said.

“I do what I’m told.”  Farkas said simply, “It’s the way I’ve always been.”

“Yes but you can think for yourself Farkas.”  She said and he shrugged self-consciously. 

“Not well.”  He admitted softly.

“That’s not true.”  Saadia said.  “I’m not trying to say that this… blood… is good.  Or that it’s bad.  I wouldn’t know, I don’t have it.  I’m just saying that you should make your own decision for yourself.” 

There was a pause while Farkas mulled that over.

“I would be whatever it was that would make us go back to the way we were before you knew.”  He answered. 

“Well you just have to be yourself for that.”  She said taking his hand.  He looked at her hand on his and then he looked up at her face.

“So we’re alright?”

“We’re alright.”  She answered and he stood up, sweeping her up into his arms, his lips on hers instantly.

“TAKE IT OUTSIDE!”  Njada joked and Ria and Athis laughed.

Farkas ignored them, heading downstairs to his room, Saadia in his arms. 

He threw her on the bed and practically dove on after her, his knees between her thighs, his hands finding their way under her simple tunic, his lips pressed to hers. 

“Hmm, slow down.”  She whispered and Farkas did so.  He was too excited for this; he recognised that.  “I have to tell you that I slept with a beautiful woman in Ivarstead.”  She said.

“Oh yeah?”  Farkas asked with a smutty grin, his mouth going to her neck.

“She had the most beautiful tasting kunte.”  Farkas gave a groan of approval, “And she taught me a few things about drawing out the moment.”

“I’m keen to learn.”  Farkas answered.  “Was it Lynly Star-Strung?”

“You know her?”

“Oh she’s beautiful.”  Farkas agreed, “Not interested in men; believe me I tried!”

“I bet you did!”  Saadia laughed. 

“She reminds me of a beautiful woman, similar face but with black hair, that I met in Riften.  She said no to me too.”  He said as he pulled his tunic off, “First person to ever say no to me.”   He said and sat back on his heels to undo his pants, Saadia lying before him, her tunic pulled up over her breasts.  “Lynly being the second.”

“Were they the only 2?”  Saadia asked, admiring his physique as he unlaced his pants.

“Yeah.”  Farkas nodded, giving her a grin.  “Vilkas always said that you always want what you can’t have more than anything.  And I never understood it until that woman in Riften – my desire for her tripled the minute she said no.”

“What did you do?”  Saadia asked.

“Walked away.”  Farkas answered, “She’d said no.” 

“Bet you had a cold bath?’  She teased.

“Lots of running in wolf form.”  Farkas answered, “And fighting; get the frustration out!”  He laughed.  “And I also bedded almost everyone in Riften… that helped.”  He added. 

“You must have been very tired afterwards.”  Saadia said with a straight face, trying not to laugh. 

“I was younger; I had a lot of energy to burn back then.”  He said as he finally got his pants down around his knees and leaned back down to kiss Saadia.

“Yes you’re so old now.”  She laughed.

“I’ve had 36 summers soon.”  He answered and Saadia laughed. 

“I thought you were younger than me.”  She teased; she knew how old they were. 

“No, you’re the young’un.”  He teased.  “I’m glad you like older men.” 

“Oh yeah, I love ‘em ancient.”  She teased and grabbed his hair making him groan and bite his bottom lip in appreciation. 

“Feel like being rough then?”

“Yeah, we’ll go for slow and drawn out pleasure later.”  She said.  “Let’s fuck.”

“You’re never going to have to tell me twice.”

 

 


	8. Part 8

Saadia had decided to journey cross country rather than stick to the roads that wound the long way around some low mountains; she was sure she could scale them...

This did not work out as well as she’d hoped.

The rocky terrain kept forcing her off course, and as she got higher the weather worsened.

“Damned Skyrim!”  Saadia cursed the weather. 

And then the blizzard hit.

She tried to keep a straight course, and to also look for some shelter, but all the world was white and frozen, the snow whipping around her violently.

She was just glad she wasn’t up on the mountain again, and wrapped her arms around herself for warmth.

Eventually she saw a fire in the distance; she had no choice but to approach.  She was near frozen, and she needed warmth and somewhere to wait out the storm.

But as she approached, she realised it was a burning building, the flames slowly being killed by the snow.

She unsheathed her greatsword and cautiously approached.

There was a huge black dog, lying dead just before the steps leading into the building.  And more bodies; people, beyond the dog. 

Saadia knelt and touched one of the bodies; still warm.  She touched another; cold. 

She searched them both and found a few clues to explain this massacre; vampire attack. 

Saadia had never seen a vampire, but she’d heard there’d been more attacks lately. 

She went inside and searched the wrecked building; carnage.  Dead bodies, ruined furniture, twisted charred walls…

“The Hall of the Vigilant of Stendarr.”  Saadia read the sign.  She knew that Stendarr was one of the Gods… she didn’t know why vampires would want to attack a group of worshippers though.

While she was inside, finding clues and things worth selling, the blizzard eased off and Saadia managed to get her bearings, checking her map for how far she’d come off course, against a map she found in the building.  She marked off some things on her map; the location of a few Guardian Stones and caves nearby that had been marked on the Vigilant map. 

She looked at the building from the outside again, feeling a sense of horror that this had happened. 

“There are a lot of things I need to kill in Skyrim.”  She noted before heading off again, trudging through the loose snow, larges flakes wafting in the air around her. 

She made good progress and eventually came to a building not marked on her map.  A strange round building unlike anything she’d ever seen before.  The walls were simply golden gates, supported with huge stone columns and a covered with an impressive domed roof.  She walked up to it and saw through the metal gates that there was a lever in the middle of this small building; small room. 

But there was no way through the gates. 

Saadia tried to mark it on her map, but the ink simply vanished.

She looked back at the strange building.

“Magic.”  She mumbled; magic she’d never seen before.

She had no choice but to move on.

Not far from the strange building she came across a troop encampment; Stormcloaks.  The rebels that had begun the civil war. 

She was about to make a wide berth; not wanting to get involved in any of this, when she saw someone she recognised.

“Ralof.”  She whispered. 

She was still carrying a bottle of the mead with juniper berries in it.

She wanted to give it to him. 

She sheathed her sword and approached the camp.

“Halt…”  A lookout called, eyeing her cautiously, everyone in the camp coming to take a look. 

“You…?”  Ralof was surprised as Saadia removed her helmet.  And then she held up the bottle of mead with juniper berries.  He laughed and came to her, clapping her on the back.  “I knew you were one of the good ones!”  He declared, the rest of the camp relaxing instantly.  “This one was at Helgen!”  He told them.  She handed him the mead and they hugged.

“I’m glad you survived.”  She said.

“Only we can understand the true terror of what happened that day.”  He said, “My comrades… they don’t…”

“They don’t know what it was like.”  Saadia understood. 

“It is good to see you friend.”  He said and took a good long moment to look at her. 

“Let me see you drink some before I go.”  She said with a grin.

“So soon?”

“I’m on a… quest… I guess you’d call it, for the Greybeards.”  Saadia said with a shrug and Ralof’s eyes opened wide.

“Then you are the Dragonborn?  I had heard it might be so…”

“Looks like it.”  Saadia sighed. 

“You are a miracle, standing among the Stormcloaks.”  He whispered joyously. 

“Drink!”  Saadia laughed, not wanting to discuss that any further. 

“She survived Helgen, eh?’  One of the guards said, and Ralof nodded.

“A brave and honourable woman!”  Ralof vouched for her, “and she is D-” But Ralof’s attempt at telling them all she was Dragonborn was stopped dead by another guard.

“Looks like the Dragon burned her black!”  He guffawed and a couple of the guards laughed.  A couple more stared at them with disdain.

“Excuse me?”  Ralof asked with disgust.

“Just saying the Dragon must have got her nice and crispy; she’s charcoal!”  He laughed again.  Saadia stared at him, the words her father had said ringing in her ears.  Too dark…

“How dare you!”  Ralof answered.

“Hey, we’re fighting to make Skyrim for the Nords, what d’you expect?”  He asked angrily.

“I am fighting for a free and liberated Skyrim, for the free worship of Talos, for the rightful king, Ulfric to be crowned, to free ourselves from the tyranny of the Aldmeri Dominion and the cowardice of the Empire.”  Ralof answered, “I am not fighting to hate people who are not Nords, nor to expel them from Skyrim.  That is not what this rebellion is about!”

“Well it is for some of us.”  He retorted.

“Most of us.”  His friend said.

“Not bloody likely.”  Said one of the other guards who was staring at him with revulsion. 

“I’m in command here.”  Ralof answered, “And I have Ulfric’s ear.  And I tell you what this rebellion is about; is that clear?”

“Yes sir…”  the guard said, lowering his eyes petulantly. 

“I will not have that kind of language again.”

“Yes sir.”  The guards answered. 

“I want that wood pile filled up.”  Ralof said to the guard that had been so racist to Saadia. 

The guard gave him a dirty look.

“Yes… sir…”  He said through gritted teeth, an angry look in his eye. 

Ralof watched him go, the other guards milling away.  He sighed and turned to her.

“This is a poison in our ranks.”  He said softly, shaking his head.  “It used to be that they only hated the Elves and Beastkind… but now it’s anyone who’s not a Nord.  I don’t think we should be hating anyone; it’s not the Nord way.”  He tried to reassure her, I’m sorry you had to experience that.”  He said to her, “If they knew you were the Dragonborn…”  He chuckled, “I don’t know what they’d do.”  He admitted shaking his head.

“Looks like you’ve got a long way to go before you can really challenge the Empire.”  Saadia noted.

“These boys and girls need a lot more training to be an army.”  He acknowledged, “The best we can do now is small, strategical strikes aimed at training our troops and hurting the Empire in some small way.”  He admitted.  “But we’ll get there, and we’ll win.”  He said determinedly. 

Saadia looked at the guards milling around the tent town. 

“I have to go Ralof.”  She said softly, “I hope to see you again though.”  She said and he gave her a huge grin.

“We will meet again my friend!”  He hugged her, “We will draw sword together on the battlefield!”  He declared, clapping her back again.

Saadia didn’t comment on that but made her farewells and continued on, her mind going back to Hadvar and his love and support for the Empire. 

She ran on for a while longer before approaching her destination. 

After killing the bandits surrounding the barrow entrance, Saadia noticed that there was a lot of deathbell growing around here.  She grinned and picked every single young flower; it never hurt to have a good supply, she had no intention of getting pregnant, or of ceasing her sexual activities. 

The barrow was similar to the one she had cleared with Farkas; a hill surrounded by standing stones and a hole at the top with stone stairs spiralling down into it.  At the bottom, it wasn’t the usual ebony door that greeted her; it was a plain wooden door.

She wondered why.

Inside the ruins looked much the same… except for the dead bandits everywhere.

Saadia crept along, not knowing what to expect. 

“These thralls of yours are slower than an Argonian in a blizzard.” 

“Feel free to grab a pick and help them out… I prefer not to sully myself with manual labour.”

Saadia ducked behind a pillar to watch the people talking… They were necromancers.  Dark wizards adept at raising the dead to do their deeds. 

They’d hit her with a variety of spells, and they’d send their thralls against her, she knew that, but she also knew they died easily once you got close enough to kill them; they were just like any other mage in that regard…

Saadia looted their corpses when she was done.  They’d tried ice spells, but she was getting very good at resisting them; they hurt, and they slowed her down, but they weren’t enough to stop her anymore. 

The most disgusting thing was their thralls.  Long dead people, rotting and fetid, shambling around – digging for something. 

Without their necromancer master to give them new orders, they would just continue their current task until their bodies fell apart and they collapsed.

Saadia put an end to them with little resistance from them. 

She delved deeper into the barrow and saw a few necromancers fighting draugr.

“It’s nice that it’s not just me they hate.”  Saadia stood back and watched – letting the two forces battle it out; she’d take on the victor.

The necromancers used a lot of ice magic on the draugr, but their dried flesh didn’t seem to be hurt by it.  Their fire spells seemed to do a lot more damage to the draugr, but even so, the draugr made short work of the necromancers.  Saadia pulled a face; it seemed that draugr could actually be a formidable opponent…

Unless you were her of course!

She finished them off in little time and continued on, her mood lifting.  It looked like this was going to be the easiest ancient Nord ruins she’d ever been in.  There were still all the usual tunnels, but thanks to the ongoing battles between necromancers and draugr, most of the enemies she met were injured or their numbers had been thinned for her already. 

She moved quickly through the ruins.

The only surprise she got was when a draugr used an ice spell on her.  There weren’t even any traps.

She went deeper and deeper into the earth, looking carefully for the horn, wondering if it would be in a place of honour, or somewhere hidden.  And also wondering why the necromancers could not control the draugr – they were dead after all. 

She was beginning to think that these ruins weren’t like all the other ruins… until she rounded a corner and saw it.

One of those black doors.  A skeleton in front of it, sprawled on the floor, reaching out to the door. 

“Damned Nords.”  She swore, pausing in front of the door.  She knew what this meant.  Behind this door, things were going to be more like what she was used to from these ruins. 

She went through the door and down the corridor, but where it turned sharply at the bottom, there was a hole in the wall, thick tree roots growing down over it, and beyond, Saadia could see a vast underground cavern with trees growing up towards the sun streaming through some cracks in the ceiling. 

And she felt the pull of a Word Wall. 

There was no way to get down into the cavern; the roots made it impossible to climb through the hole and she would have been high on the wall of this cavern, looking at a steep drop down to where the trees grew… so Saadia turned and continued along the corridor instead. 

The corridor opened up to the cavern multiple times as it went down, turning on itself, snaking deeper into the earth; Saadia knew it would eventually open up at the bottom of that cavern. 

She stopped and looked out at it again.  there were massive stone columns, taller than the trees, put there by Human hands, and bridges across the deep cavern, and in the distance she saw fire. 

This was truly the grandest cavern she’d been in.

These ruins were different to other ruins.  And Saadia started to worry what that would mean. 

She continued on and only had taken only a few steps when the floor beneath her erupted with fire, burning her skin before she’d had chance to dive away. 

Saadia rolled away, hitting the wall, the flames stopping as soon as her weight was off the trap plate.  She sat there, shaking and shivering from the pain, the skin bubbling on her hands, staying as silent as she could. 

She felt the itch instantly; Kynareth’s Kiss was getting quicker it seemed… Or perhaps she had a bad perception of time when she was in pain.  She took a healing potion to help it along and looked back at the trapped floor.  She couldn’t see the trap.  Usually the floor near a trap was slightly different, to allow those who built the tombs to get out alive, and those that would tend them to get in alive. 

But she could see no difference.  She crawled over gingerly, not wanting to set off the trap again, looking closely at the tiling on the floor.  That in itself was strange – the floors were usually fairly solid stone; large slabs with the occasional smaller slab or large cobblestones.  Here it was tiling with an intricate pattern… and then she saw it. 

The floor patter was circles inside squares, hundreds of small tiles making up each circle, larger tiles making up the triangle shape between the edge of the circle and the corners of the square… and some of those triangles were ever so slightly darker in colour. 

“By the Gods.”  Saadia whispered; in this light, it was almost impossible to see the difference.  She looked around and saw a torch attached to the wall, the fire burning brightly. 

It would give away her position.

It would make it impractical for her to hold her 2 handed greatsword…

She had no choice but to take it from the wall – she had to see these traps, they were deadly.  

Saadia got up and grabbed the torch, her skin slowly healing up, right before her eyes, the pain still intense. 

She would have to creep forward slowly, carefully checking the tiles for colour differences.

The going was slow, but in this way she missed three traps before she came face to face with a draugr.  She swung the torch and hit it across the face, setting its head on fire and sending it stumbling back.  Saadia dropped the torch and unsheathed her sword, knowing she had to watch her footing; she couldn’t go forward without the risk of setting of a trap, and behind her there was a trap only a few feet away. 

But the fire on the draugr’s head was spreading through its body, and when it took aim at Saadia it was sloppy, and missed her by a wide berth.  Saadia slashed it in half along the stomach, and it fell to the floor in 2 pieces, the fire consuming it.  Saadia retrieved the torch and took note; fire was very effective against draugr…

Saadia continued, taking out draugr with the torch, picking up one of their one-handed swords for finishing them off. 

She didn’t like the little one-handed weapon – too light weight, but it did the job she needed it to do right now. 

She continued like this for a long time until the floor became dirt; cave like, again.  And she threw away the torch, knowing she’d regret that, but needing to keep her location less obvious because the tunnel had almost instantly opened up on the cavern.  She was on a high ledge with a ramp down to the ground, and she could see hundreds of draugr and skeletons patrolling the huge cavern.  The last thing she wanted or needed, was all of them to come to attack her at the same time.  So she was doing this without the torch from now on. 

She crept down the ramp, killing a skeleton quickly and quietly, deciding she needed to work on her sneakiness a lot more; she made a lot of noise when she moved. 

The Word Wall was in this huge draugr and skeleton infested cavern somewhere.  She could feel it.

Saadia took a deep breath, closed her eyes and listened to the Word calling her.

She knew where to go.

She could see that the way out of the barrow was one way, but the Word Wall was the other way.  Saadia had a feeling the horn was in the opposite direction to the Wall as well.

If she just went for the horn and the way out, she’d miss most of the draugr filled cavern… If she went for the Word Wall, she’d have a draugr army to take on.

She went for the Word Wall. 

And the minute she turned that way - they came for her.  It was like her decision triggered them all to know she was present in their ruins. 

Saadia had no chance to find a better location to fight them; perhaps with her back to a wall so they couldn’t flank her; they were upon her now, flanking her, surrounding her.

“YOL!”  She put a least a dozen of them to the flames and they fell to her blade easily, their burning corpses igniting the draugr that came near them.

She drove her sword through one, then another, and a third.

“YOL!”  She Shouted as soon as she had the energy to.

She turned on the spot, having to watch her back, parrying blows, killing draugr-

And an ice spike hit her chest, winding her and sending her staggering back into the draugr behind her.  They tore at her with their bony fingers and she scrambled to get away from them.  But the one she stumbled back onto grabbed her throat with its surprisingly strong hand and choked her, holding her back against its chest, her sword still swinging at the draugr in front of her.  Once the ones in front of her had fallen back slightly she elbowed the one choking her, desperate for a gasp of air.  It didn’t let go.  She elbowed it again and again, eventually twisting her neck out of its hand when it doubled over.  It left deep scratches in her neck in its attempt to keep hold of her neck.

Saadia beheaded it as she gasped for air, knowing she had no time to stop and get herself together after so long without air.  She had to keep fighting.

“YOL!”  Her Shout was croaky, but the fire still did its job.

She swung her sword in a wide arc, cutting down 4 draugr in one blow, while others burned and collapsed to the floor. 

And still they kept coming while Saadia still struggled to get her breath back. 

“Damned Word Walls.”  She said as she stabbed a draugr through the chest and head butted another one. 

But there were too many, they crowded in on her, hitting at her, pushing her down.

“FUS RO!”  Saadia said her two Words of Unrelenting Force; the Dragon Shout that would push things back.

The effect was instantaneous, the draugr went flying off her. 

Saadia got to her feet and immediately set about to beheading as many of them as she could, while they were down and dazed. 

The draugr bodies were piled high when Saadia noticed that the skeletons had not attacked yet.

She looked around; she could see nothing moving… but the pull of the Word was strong… so she yielded and went to the Wall. 

She knew the Word within seconds, and now had 2 words, inert within her.

“2 Dragons have to die.”  She whispered to herself and turned back to the cavern.  “They all have to die.”

She searched the area around the Word Wall and found a hidden room behind a waterfall with a lot of loot. 

And then she headed back to the path that lead to the horn.

And there she saw the skeletons.  And army of them, raising their swords at her, challenging her to try and take them; the path she wanted to take behind them.

She looked at them all, grouped together to stop her taking the path to the horn.  She could see fire along that path and knew it was heavily trapped. 

But she also knew that she had to go that way.

“FUS RO!”  She Shouted and the skeletons went flying, smashing to pieces when they hit the rocks behind them, setting off the traps when they landed on them.

Not one of them was left standing.

“By Ysgramor…”  She said in awe. 

She went up the stairs towards the flames and saw that a draugr had triggered the trap she’d seen ablaze from afar.  But now all of the traps at the top of the stairs had been triggered by skeleton bones.  She skirted past the flames and continued on down the path. 

She came to a room with 3 strange stones.  1 was close to her, the next one a bit closer to the gated tunnel up ahead, and the 3rd one even closer to it.  She walked forward, the 1st stone lighting up with an ethereal purple light as she passed it to her left, the 1st gate on the tunnel opening.  The second stone passed on her right, lighting up and the second gate lifted.  Saadia understood that the third stone, on her left as she stepped closer to the tunnel would open the last gate of the tunnel-

But the first gate came crashing down before she got to the third stone.  Saadia stared at the gate for a second and then turned around; the first stone was no longer lit up. 

All three stones needed to be lit up for her to get through, and all three stones only lit up when she was near them, falling dark moments after she left their sphere. 

Somehow she would have to get all three stone lit and get to the end of the tunnel before any of them went dark.  Saadia sighed and looked skyward.

“Really?”  She asked the Divines, or anyone else that might be listening and sheathed her greatsword. 

She stared at the first rock and ran as first as she could, but she couldn’t make it to the first gate before it closed… and she saw skeletons of dead people that had gotten caught between the gates when trying this in the distant past…

She realised that she only got one shot – once she was in the tunnel, if she didn’t make it to the end, she died in here, trapped between the gates when they slammed down behind her. 

She wished Lydia was here.  She could have just sent Lydia through while she lit up each stone; there was no doubt some lever at the other end to release the trap.  Or if not, Lydia could have come back and stood by each stone as Saadia continued on. 

And then Saadia remembered whirlwind sprint; her new Shout – taught to her by the Greybeards.  She only had one word of it, but it might just be enough to get her through this trap…

“Sneaky buggers.”  Saadia said, wondering if they had taught her that word, knowing what traps lay ahead of her. 

She lined herself up and Shouted.

“WULD!”  she jerked forward at incredible speed, but realised that she wasn’t in line with the tunnel opening properly, she tried to correct herself and then with terror saw the 1st gate beginning to drop… she hoped she wouldn’t be on the other side when-

SMASH!

Saadia crashed into the closed gate.

Now she was glad that no one was around as she got herself up off the floor and shook herself off.

She realised that she had started too far back and without enough attention paid to her line – she needed a straight line through the tunnel, no course corrections.  It was the only way she’d make it. 

She lined herself up to be as far forward as she could be before the 1st stone would turn off and took a deep, steadying breath.

She focussed on the centre of the last gate and beyond it, lining herself up carefully.

Another deep breath.

“WULD!”

She raced forward past the 2nd and 3rd stones, then past the 1st gate, past the 2nd, and easily past the 3rd. 

She nearly cheered when she cleared the tunnel.

And of course, there was a lever to hold the gates open if needed.

She left the trap intact; let it do the job it was meant to do; keeping people out of Jurgen Windcaller’s tomb. 

She unsheathed her sword and looked around; stairs leading up to a room covered in spider webs and completely floored with those small tiles.

Now she wished she had a torch again.  The entire floor seemed to be a trap.

She trained her eyes on the floor, looking for the tell-tale signs and stepped out on to what she thought was a safe tile.  It sunk into the ground ominously.  Saadia dove back to the stairs as the fire spurted up from the floor.

There would be a safe way through the floor; she just didn’t know it… She could try whirlwind sprint, but that could leave her standing on a trapped tile in the middle of a bunch of trapped tiles with nowhere safe to dive to.

She stared at the room, looking for an answer-

The spider webs.

They were as thick as rope, hanging from the walls.  Sticky to be sure, but she could get across them somehow, without touching the floor.  It wasn’t that super sticky stuff the spiders used to catch prey; that stuff was whiter than these grey webs.  It might work…

Saadia reached for the first spider web and pulled herself up it.  It stuck to her, but she could pull herself off it and edge forward with some work.  She climbed up higher and steadily made progress across the room; from up here she could see how vast the trapped room was.  It would be hard slow going, but these webs would get her across the room as long as-

And there they were; the spiders had come.

She was hoping they were long dead.  But apparently tombs that were impossible to get into provided excellent homes for frostbite spiders.

One spit venom at her and she swung out on the web strand to avoid it, landing further along the room and scrambling to free herself from that strand to get onto the next bit of webbing.

But this was the spider’s home and they moved easily along the sticky, silken threads, attacking Saadia as she hanged precariously above the fire-trapped floor, her sword necessarily sheathed as she needed both hands to climb…

Her best bet was to try and dislodge the spiders and let the fire do its work. 

Saadia wrapped a strand of web around her leg, to stop herself from falling if the spiders tried to get her off the web.  She watched the spiders stalking her, noting the one rushing up to her, and dodged its lunge, its huge fangs snapping at her face.  She punched it in the side of its… face, for lack of a better word… and it staggered sideways.  Saadia tried to channel Farkas, tried to punch as hard as him.  But as her fist slammed into the spider, she realised she’d never have his strength; she didn’t have the Beastblood. 

“I can damn well try, by the Gods!” 

There was a cracking sound and green blood seeped from its head as it stumbled.  Saadia punched it again, and this time it tumbled from the web. 

The result was instant, and the smell of burning frostbite was not something Saadia would ever forget; she retched as she eyed the next spider, lunging at her head.  But this one dodged her punch and shot poison at her face.

Saadia pulled her other hand free of the web and fell back to dodge the poison, held up off the floor by the web wound around her leg. 

And suddenly she had both hands free.  She unsheathed her greatsword, hanging upside down from a spider web above a flaming death trap and sat up, swinging at the spider, slicing it in half.  She twisted and thrust her blade through the third spider’s face, both of them tumbling to the floor, leaving Saadia retching again as they cooked and sizzled just beneath her. 

She looked around for other spiders, but it had just been the three.  She sheathed her sword and swung herself back up to be holding the web.  She freed her leg and moved on.

She was exhausted and covered in spider silk by the time she dropped down on the other side of the room… it’d take a month to get it out of her hair. 

She sighed angrily and turned to see a glob of poison coming for her head.

She ducked and rolled away, nearly rolling off the ledge back onto the trapped floor. 

She unsheathed her sword and made short work of the three remaining spiders, cutting through their web that covered the entrance to the next tunnel and moving on; a foul mood taking her.

“Damned spiders.” 

She came out on a ledge, overlooking a large still lake with a low bridge along it up to a large stage, a huge sarcophagus on it. 

This is where Jurgen Windcaller was laid to rest. 

Quite suddenly the ground began to shake and the water bubbled.

Saadia readied herself for whatever was to come. 

Huge statues that looked almost like stylised dragon heads erupted from the water; four of them, overlooking the bridge. 

Saadia waited for anything else to happen…

But all was still.

Slowly, carefully, attentively she edged down the stairs towards the bridge. 

The statues loomed over her, as if watching her as she stepped onto the stone bridge.

She looked up at them, waiting for something to happen, her sword ready. 

But nothing happened…

She saw places where fire could spurt out of the statue’s stylised mouths… but none came.  She wondered if this was the test; perhaps only a Dragonborn could walk this bridge.  Certainly only a Dragonborn that could Whirlwind Sprint could have gotten through the test with the triple gate. 

She looked ahead and saw dead draugr around the huge sarcophagus and wondered what had killed them. 

She approached the sarcophagus, every nerve on edge, waiting for the final trap, and saw…

A scrap of paper where the horn should be. 

Saadia furrowed her brows and picked up the paper.

It was a note.

_Dragonborn_

_I need to speak to you.  Urgently._

_Rent the attic room at the Sleeping Giant Inn in Riverwood, and I’ll meet you._

_\- A friend._

“For the love of Kyne.”  She said in frustration and balled the letter up angrily.  She shoved it in her satchel and saw that the door behind the sarcophagus was opened; it had been forced open.

Someone had used the escape route out of here to come in, thus avoiding all the traps.  They were usually impossible to find… whoever it was knew what they were doing.

And Saadia was livid with them.

 

***

 

When Saadia finally got back out into fresh air a heavy mist had rolled in from the marshes.  In the distance she heard a dog barking pitifully.  

She tried to get her bearings in the thick fog, but the pitiful dog sounds echoing through the mist drew her attention again. 

She sighed.

“Why do I always have to save everyone?”  She asked herself, “Why am I like this?”  She headed into the mist towards the sound.  She knew it could be a trap, and she also knew that in mist like this the dog could be far away; the mist amplifying the sound, making it travel further. 

But still she went to the sound of an animal in pain.

The swamp was filled with insects and mudcrabs that attacked her on sight.  The mudcrabs were easily killed and stored in her satchel to cook them later with butter and garlic; delicious.

She gathered deathbell as she walked along, listening carefully for sounds of the dog.  She’d have to ask Arcadia how to properly dry the flowers so they kept their potency for future use. 

It was just starting to rain, the mists of the swamp left behind, the sounds of the dog gone, when Saadia found a road. 

She looked up it in one direction, wondering which way led home, and knowing she’d never find that poor dog.

She was about to look in the other direction when she heard a whine and when she looked, there he was. 

A huge, shaggy, grey wolfhound.  She nearly laughed.

“My life is destined to be filled with wolves of some sort.”  She said to herself as she approached the dog.  He was painfully thin and his fur was matted and dirty.

When she approached he whined and then looked down a path in between the trees. 

“Hey boy…”  She said and held her hand out to him, the dog licked her hand and she stroked his head, “What’s wrong boy?”  She asked and he whined and looked back down the path. 

The dog looked back at her and then took off down the path. 

“Wait!”  She said and followed him.

There was a shack in the forest and the dog went in through the open door.  Saadia wondered if he was looking for help for a sick or injured owner. 

But even before she got to the hut she knew there was no one here left alive; the smell of decaying flesh was ripe in the air. 

She looked in the cabin to see the dog sitting, nudging the hand of a dead man, lying in his bed, his body swollen with sickness; Rockjoint by the looks of it.  The dog licked the man’s hand and tried to get him to stroke him by nudging his hand with his nose again. 

“Oh boy, your owner’s dead.”  Saadia said gently to the dog.  The dog looked back at her and whined.  “Come on, how about you come home with me boy?”  She asked and he whined and looked back at his owner and then back at her as if making up his mind.  She looked around the shack and saw a journal.  She picked it up and read the single entry.  It detailed how the man was alone in this world except for Meeko, a loyal friend and companion.  The man was sure Meeko could take care himself now that Rockjoint was finally going to kill him.  She put the journal down and looked back at the dog.  “Is your name Meeko?” She asked him and he wagged his tail.  “Meeko!”  Saadia repeated and the dog barked.  “Alright Meeko, you follow me home, alright boy?”  He barked again and Saadia left the shack without searching it; she didn’t have the heart to rummage through the place.  Meeko followed her and Saadia headed back to the road, hoping she could figure out which way to go without having to walk too long to find a signpost. 

 

***

 

By the time Saadia got back to Whiterun several hours later her mood had improved a lot.  Meeko was a lovely mutt and loyal; he ran in to fight wolves when they had attacked her on the road home.  They had fought the wolves off together. 

But Saadia needed some family time… and a good hard fuck to really feel like herself again.

She headed home to see Lucia…

Who was instantly taken with Meeko and begged to keep him.

Saadia had already intended to keep Meeko, but the girls love of him made her happy; it meant he’d have a good home, even when she wasn’t there.  The girl stroked him and hugged him while the dog enthusiastically licked her face.

“He needs a bath.”  Saadia said as Lydia came into the room, coming back from the markets with food. 

“A dog, my Thane?”  She asked and Saadia shrugged.

“Sorry.”  She said and Lydia nodded slowly. 

“A dog.”  She sighed. 

“I can bathe him!”  Lucia said happily and took the dog outside.  Saadia turned to Lydia.

“He’s her responsibility, alright?”  Saadia said and Lydia nodded.

“Understood, my Thane.”  Lydia answered.

“How has everything been?”

“She doesn’t like the Jarl’s children, my Thane.”  Lydia answered.  “She says they are… strange.”

“I guess rich people can afford to be strange.”  Saadia answered.

“She wants to have a private tutor.”  Lydia said with a wry grin.

“She can have a private tutor when she pays for one!”  Saadia said, pulling out all the coin purses in her satchel and tossing them to Lydia.

Lydia would empty them into the household chest; a store of money designed to keep this household running smoothly, and return the empty bags to her later. 

There wasn’t a lot of gold left in the chest and Lydia was glad Saadia was returning with so much gold.

“How long will you be back, my Thane?”

“Not long.”  Saadia sighed, “Some son of a syphilitic pirate stole the damned horn.”  She explained and Lydia nodded.  “I’m sorry you can’t come with me.  I miss you out on the road.”

“I miss being out on the road.”  Lydia answered, “But truthfully my Thane… looking after Lucia is very fulfilling too.  I just worry for you… I am to protect you with my life…”

“Not having to worry about Lucia is a great help.”  Saadia answered, “One less thing to worry about, one less distraction for me that might get me killed.”

“I understand, my Thane.” 

“And honestly Lydia, she’s the most important thing to me right now.”  She said, “And I know I can trust you with her, no matter what happens to me.”

“Yes, my Thane.”

 

***

 

Saadia headed up to Jorrvaskr, intending to fuck Farkas as hard as she could; she needed some good frustration relief before she went on to Riverwood or else she’d end up killing this person who had stolen the horn. 

But when she got to Jorrvaskr, Farkas was away on a job.

“How far away is the job?”  She quizzed Aela, wondering if she could just run out there and have a quick fuck anyway…

“Too far and unsafe for what you’re thinking whelp.”  She answered, unimpressed. 

“Ugh!”  Saadia said in frustration as Vilkas came into the hall. 

“You sound like you have some anger to work out.”  He said and she nodded. 

“And Farkas is away.”  Aela said, still unimpressed.

“Ah.”  Vilkas answered, “Well you can always use me.”  He answered.  Saadia gave him a querying look, her eyebrows furrowed.  But he laughed and threw her a greatsword.  “Come on, new blood.  There’s more than one way to skin a horker.” 

She trudged outside with him, to the courtyard, the greatsword trailing behind her, Vilkas shaking his head at her.

“Come on, whelp.”  He said and raised his greatsword.

“I don’t want to fight.”  She sighed, “I’ve spent days doing that.”

“You want to fuck.”  He said, “And you can’t.”  He said, “unless Belethor takes your fancy.”  
“Ugh.”  She gave a disgusted look.

“So take it out on me.”  Vilkas said, “I could use the fight too.” 

Without further encouragement, Saadia swung her sword as hard as she could at Vilkas.  He staggered back as her sword smashed into his parrying sword.

“Don’t hold back milk-drinker!”  He goaded her.

“I’m not!”  She screamed and hit his sword even harder, surprising herself.

“You think I can’t take because you beat me one time?”  He asked, “I was holding back!” 

“Then don’t hold back now!”  She screamed at him and slammed her sword against his. 

“Should we stop them?”  Ria asked Njada as they came down the stairs from the Sky Forge, “Neither of them is wearing armour…”

“Nah.”  Njada said and shrugged.  They went inside, leaving Vilkas and Saadia to smash swords. 

“You have to stop dropping your shoulder Vilkas.”  Saadia said as she swung at him, “You give yourself away.”

“Yes, but sometimes I use it as a fake tell.”  He said as he countered her swing and brought his sword around to smack her arse with the flat of his sword.  She gave him a dirty look and he laughed.  “You should learn to wield your two-hander with one hand.”

“It’s a two-hander for a reason.”  She grumbled.

“Yes but we don’t always have two hands free.”  He said holding his greatsword in one hand, swiping it at her stomach, Saadia jumping back.  He tossed the heavy sword from one hand to the other, “Strengthen both of your arms equally.”  He said and repeated the swing at her stomach perfectly, proving that even though Farkas was the stronger one, Vilkas was no slouch. 

“What makes you think you have more knowledge than me?”  She asked, frustrated, bringing the sword down to his shoulder, stopping short because he lacked armour.  He looked at the sword blade, millimetres from his shoulder and grinned.

“I’ve lived with the Companions since I was 5.”  He said, “And trained since that day.”  He brushed her sword away with his own, “When did you begin your training?”

“When I could walk.”  She answered, “But…” She had to admit, “my true training didn’t start until I was 11.”

“Ah.”  Vilkas said smugly and she swung her sword at his face, not pulling up short.  He dodged and laughed.

“You have a soft spot there.”  He said, “Your enemies will be sure to exploit every weak spot you have.” He told her. 

“Then you must be very exploitable.”  She countered and he laughed. 

“I have my weak spots.”  He admitted.  “But I studiously keep them to myself.”  He swung his sword at her face and Saadia easily blocked it, “Although I have made mistakes in that regard.”  He acknowledged. 

“I know.”  Saadia answered, again making Vilkas laugh.  She gritted her teeth, determined to stop him from laughing… but not sure if she wanted this to get as violent as it had last time. 

She came at him, making three fast, hard strikes, Vilkas blocking all of them, but at the end of the third one she head-butted him splitting his eyebrow.  He pushed her back and spun his sword brutally hard, putting a bit more of his strength in it, his fire getting up now.  Now this was a good fight.  Now there was blood. 

She blocked the blow, her arms shuddering with the effort of stopping his blow in its tracks.  She enjoyed that he was starting to put more of his strength into it. 

They continued to make punishing attacks and blocks, Saadia surprising herself by matching him as he put more and more into it.  But she wondered how much stronger he would be if he tapped into the wolf… if he was in werewolf form.  She still wasn’t sure if she could beat a werewolf; and this was the best practice she could get at it.  She redoubled her focus and attention, taking in all the lessons she could, eventually managing to push Vilkas back and whip her sword around to spank his arse just like he had to her. 

But he didn’t laugh, he bared his teeth at her, almost in a growl and raised his sword; Saadia understood, the blood was flowing now. 

The fight got faster, bone shuddering hits and blocks, their hearts beating faster, sweat dripping from them as they worked as hard as they could, not really trying to best the other, but instead trying to be the best they could... occasionally enjoying getting one over the other. 

“Harder!”  He commanded.

“Faster!”  She countered. 

Both of them pushed themselves, Saadia realising she was a lot more powerful than she thought. 

And that fighting like this really did help her anger. 

“You’re enjoying it now.”  Vilkas hissed, clearly enjoying it too. 

“I’d enjoy it more if you weren’t such an old timer.”  She retorted and Vilkas returned to his laughter; the love of battle lifting them both. 

And the viciousness grew, punches being added in between the swings, deadly shots being made, blood flowing freely…

And still Vilkas held his self-control, and Saadia pushed herself to be better and better. 

And then she head-butted him again, and again and he roared in pain, picking her up with one hand around her throat and slamming her into the column, the roof over the outside table shuddering, the air leaving Saadia’s lungs. 

She saw the amber glean in his eyes, even saw his teeth starting to lengthen and she head-butted him again, surprising him, making his grip on her throat lessen. 

This is what she had wanted; practice with someone nearly as strong as a werewolf.  She slipped out of his grasp while Vilkas shook his head momentarily, controlling himself but she kicked him in the gut and swung her sword at him.  He blocked her, grabbed her sword hand and head-butted her.  Saadia laughed as she staggered back. 

“Is that all you got?” She asked, coming at him again, hit after hit, he blocked them all and brought just one bone-shuddering blow down on her, breaking her sword in two. 

Saadia was almost breathless; their strength was terrifying.  She had to become stronger; she had to be strong enough to kill one if she needed to.  Right now, if she met a feral werewolf in the wilds of Skyrim, it’d kill her.  She head-butted him again and disarmed him with a kicked to his hands.  She leapt at him, her hands going for his throat, her knees crashing into his chest.  He caught her, his hands squeezing her ribs and then slammed her into the wall this time, her feet dropping to the floor from the force of the impact. 

“You gonna growl at me again?”  She asked him, “Gonna turn?”  She hissed, goading him to test her own skill. 

He stared at her, his hands on her ribs, his lower body pressed against her, their faces centimetres apart, her hands choking him.

It would be so easy to turn now. 

It would be so fun to have her be a werewolf…

Vilkas took a deep breath.

“Not today Dovahkiin.”  He said with a slightly strained voice.  She loosened her hands on his throat.  “I was wrong about you.” He said quite suddenly, “I’ve never been more wrong about someone in my life.”  He admitted, “And I’m sorry.” 

They stared at each other for a moment longer, Saadia watching as the amber left his eyes and they went back to pale blue. 

She let go of his throat, her hands dropping to his chest.

“I’m sure you were more right than you think.”  She said softly.

“I thought you were a fraud.”  He said, “Amongst other things… but no matter what the Greybeards say I know… I know you’re the real deal.”  He stepped back slowly, and Saadia only just realised how close they’d been.  Vilkas seemed to be coming to the same realisation because he took another few steps back and turned away.

Saadia stood there, thoroughly surprised by how things had turned out. 

“Thanks…?”  She said, not sure what else to say.

“Don’t think too much about it, new blood.”  He said shrugging it off.  “Good fight.”  He added.  “I needed that, thanks.” 

“Something bothering you too?”

“Always.”  He answered.  “Nothing that a good fight doesn’t fix.”  He declared.  “What’s bothering you?”

“Nothing a good fuck wouldn’t fix.”  She said, “But the fight helped.”  He laughed and nodded as he picked up the pieces of her sword. 

“This was Farkas’s.”

“He gave it to me.”

“Freely?”  He asked, amazed.  “You didn’t win it from him?”

“Freely.”  Saadia answered, “More or less…”  She shrugged, “After he’d turned…” 

“Ah.”  Vilkas chuckled lightly.  “I’ll have Eorlund fix it.”  He said, “Until then, please take mine.”  He handed her his sword.  “I wouldn’t want you going out there unarmed Shield-sister.”

“What about you?”

“I have a warhammer that hasn’t seen blood for too long.”  He answered, “It can have a go while you have my greatsword.”

“Thank you.”  Saadia took it.

“I’m not my brother.  I’ll want that back, new blood.”  He said firmly.

“Understood.”  She said.  “Why do you call me new blood?”  She asked, “Ria, Aela and Farkas made it seem like you tend to call people who are going to be initiated new blood…”

“I suppose.”  He answered, “But whelp doesn’t seem to suit you, does it?”  He asked, “You’re clearly too experienced for that…”  He looked her up and down again, always sizing her up.  Vilkas was always sizing everyone up. 

“So no secret desire to… initiate me then?”  She asked and he scoffed slightly. 

“I suppose…” Vilkas wondered if he should be this honest with her.  “I suppose there is a small part of me that’s interested to see what you’d be like as… an initiated member.”  He said, “but I don’t wish the curse on anyone.”  He added. 

“I’ve never known someone love something that’s a curse before.”

“Every drug’s a curse.”  He answered, “But oh so addictive and seductive.”  He looked down and Saadia wondered if he was sorry he’d told her of his love for the curse.  “You said you needed to talk to me when you got back?”

“Yeah actually, about the Dragonborn prophecy, and a bunch of other things.”  He stared at her for a moment.

“And you wish to talk to me about these things?” 

“Well, I don’t know if you’ve heard, but apparently you’ve got the smarts of Ysgramor.”  She teased and he broke out into laughter. 

“Alright, come on.”  He said, motioning for her to follow him.  When they got into the sleeping quarters Saadia saw Njada standing naked in the whelp’s quarters, bathing, Athis and Torvar sitting on their beds talking, paying no heed.  It was normal for the Companions to see each other like this; they all lived together.  They had all gotten very good at not seeing another person’s body as sexual until they were invited to.  Saadia wished she’d gotten to spend more time living with them.  But at the same time, she loved having her own place; and it meant Lucia had a home… and Meeko now. 

“Bath water please Tilma.”  He said when he saw their cleaning lady, “For 2.” 

“Yes dear.”  She said give him a motherly pat of the hand. 

She followed him into his room and he pulled his shirt off as soon as he entered the room, tossing the broken parts of her sword onto his bed and going over to his books.  He wiped the blood off his hands before taking a book off the shelf. 

Saadia stood in his doorway and watched him.  When he turned, he looked surprised that she was in the doorway.

“Come in.”  he said and she did.  “No need to stand on ceremony Shield-sister.”  He said, “My room is your room.” 

“So I can sleep in your bed again?’  She teased.

“Don’t push it.”  She chuckled softly in response to his answer and went over to him when he motioned for her to come.  “Don’t get blood on the book.”  He said and Saadia kept her bloody hands to herself.  “This book’s important to me; it was a gift.”

“From who?”

“Farkas actually.”  He said, he looked at his many books, “Most of my books are from Farkas.”  He ran a finger down the spine of one of his books, “He knows I like them.”

“He’s thoughtful.”  Saadia said, “You two are close.”

“Aye.”  Vilkas nodded.

“I’m sorry if I caused any sort of… friction…”

“You couldn’t.”  He said, “Don’t take that wrong, I’m not meaning to imply that you are unimportant.”  He clarified, “It’s just that… nothing comes between us.  I’ve bedded people he’s wanted, he’s bedded… many people that I’ve wanted.”  Vilkas chuckled, “We’ve both reached for the same greatsword,” His eyes flicked to the pieces of Saadia’s sword on the bed, “We’ve both reached for the same piece of meat, the same mead…”  He shook his head.

“And what happens when you both reach for the same thing?”

“I let him have it.”  Vilkas said, “I’m the oldest brother, it’s my duty.”

“Shouldn’t you be toughening him up for the world?”

“Oh I do.”  Vilkas assured her, “But... he’s always been…”  He sighed.  “He cried the first time he saw a rabbit killed for food.”  Vilkas said, “We were maybe 6 and our adoptive father belted him for showing that weakness.”  Vilkas said, “I’ve always felt that… Farkas learned that lesson, he doesn’t need me to enforce it.”  He said, “He doesn’t need my help anymore, but I still give it to him.” 

“And he returns the favour.”  Saadia noted the amount of books Vilkas had.

“Yes.”  Vilkas nodded, “In more ways than books.”  He said.

“It’s funny but Farkas makes your father seem… good…?”

“To hear Farkas tell it, our father raised us here as happy pups, running around biting knees.”  Vilkas said softly, “I love my brother, but his brains are not his strong suit.  He doesn’t remember...”  Saadia sat down on the seat in front of his desk.  “We were taken by a Necromancer.”  He said, “He… did things to us… and a man named Jergen found us.  He was a Companion, he had been paid to clear the cave and free the hostages.  We were the only 2 that survived.  He brought us here… I remember it all, but Farkas only remembers him as our father.  But I don’t care… He left to fight in the Great War and never came back.  So he's not my problem anymore.”  Saadia saw the pain his harsh words covered.  She doubted many people would see what he hid so well; but she was getting good at reading these brothers.  “We've been here since we were about 5 or 6.  It was a harsh upbringing.”

“I’m sure…”  Saadia said, “Must give you a different insight into the Companions.”

“Not really.”  He answered simply, “There's been a group called the Companions for over 4000 years.  It's been many different things in that time.  A conquering army.  Ruthless mercenaries.  A band of drunken louts.  And the esteemed company we have today.”  He gave her a wry grin, “But there's always been a kind of honour to it. We don't deal in politics or underhanded sneaking.  We try to uphold the legacy of Ysgramor.  To bear his good name such that it never be forgotten, and always be spoken with reverence.”  He shrugged, “No amount of hard upbringing will change that.”

“You love them all.”  She understood.

“Don’t you?”

“I suppose I do.”  Saadia answered. 

Tilma knocked on the door and came in with a huge bowl of warm water for them to share with 2 clean washcloths. 

“Here you go dears.”  She said.

“Thank you Tilma, have some food and a rest.”  Vilkas said and she nodded and silently left. 

He picked up the washcloth and began to wash the blood from his skin.   Saadia watched him for a moment before picking up her washcloth.  She put it to her face and bloody water dripped onto her tunic.

“Ugh!”  She sighed. 

“What is it?”

“Blood never comes out, and I only have one tunic that isn’t basically rags!”  She said and took it off, determined not to get any more blood on it, even if she’d never been so naked in front of a person she wasn’t intending to have sex with before.  Other than her sisters; but that didn’t count.

Vilkas looked at her face for a moment before looking back at his washcloth.

“You should get some more tunics.”  He answered.

“I can’t.  No coin.”  She sighed.  “I suppose I could wear the dress Sigrid gave me… but I’ve never worn dresses.”

“Running a house is expensive.”  Vilkas understood.  “Having a daughter is costly.” 

“Oh yes.”  She answered, “Getting her 1 dress that was suitable for Dragonsreach cost me as much as feeding her for a month.”  Saadia noted.  “And she needed several of those dresses.” 

“You could have been rich by now.”  Vilkas laughed.

“Alas; that’s not my fate.”  She looked back at the book Vilkas had taken off the bookshelf, “I’m hoping you can help me figure out what my fate is.”  She said, Vilkas watching her closely as she cleaned herself. 

“You make your own fate Dovahkiin.”  He said.

“So does everyone.”  She shrugged.

“Not like the Dragonborn.”  He said, “It’s well known that they are free to do with their gift as they choose.”  She looked back at him.

“Maybe it seems that way… but it isn’t.” 

They finished up in silence and he handed her a towel. 

“How did you learn to fight?  You’re very good.”  He said. 

“Brutally.  I learned to fight brutally, with my teachers inflicting as much pain as possible to make sure the lessons were learned.”  She pointed to the scar on her shoulder, “When I was 11, on the first day of my training my sister stabbed me with a spear to make me learn how to take the pain in utter silence.  And if you didn’t learn how to take it silently with that first blow, you were killed then and there.” 

“You’re still alive.”  He answered.

“It would appear so.”  She answered and then a slow smile came to her lips.  She put her tunic back on and went over to the desk.  “So, the prophecy of the Dragonborn, what’s it mean?”  She asked.  Vilkas sat on the end of his bed, leaning an arm on his table and pushing the book towards her. 

“It’s all in there.”  He said. 

“’A History of Tamriel.’”  She read the name.  “Ok… I don’t remember the prophecy off hand…”  She admitted.

“When misrule takes its place at the eight corners of the world, when the Brass Tower walks and Time is reshaped, when the thrice-blessed fail and the Red Tower trembles, when the Dragonborn Ruler loses his throne, and the White Tower falls, when the Snow Tower lies sundered, kingless, bleeding, the World-Eater wakes, and the Wheel turns upon the Last Dragonborn.”  He quoted and she looked at him with awe.  “I’ve been reading up.”  He explained.

“So what does it mean.”

“Well Alduin, the world eater was banished.”  He said and Saadia nodded.

“Alduin, the first Dragon.” 

“Yes.”  He said, “The prophecy is as much about his return as the Dragonborn’s.”  Vilkas noted.  “So it starts with, ‘When misrule takes its place at the eight corners of the world’ – that’s referring to the shattering of the Staff of Chaos.  It was broken into 8 pieces and scatted across Tamriel.”

“So that’s already happened?”

“Yes, a long time ago.”  Vilkas said, “The next line, ‘when the Brass Tower walks and Time is reshaped’ is referring to the brass golem, Numidium, and the time warp and that whole mess… I haven’t been able to get an accurate account of what happened.”

“So… how many of these things have already happened?”  She asked.

“I’m almost certain that all of them have already happened.”  Vilkas answered, “the next line, about the thrice-blessed and the Red Tower, that’s about three Dunmer Gods losing their immortality and the Red Mountain erupting and destroying most of Morrowind, the Dunmer homeland.”

“Dunmer are… Dark Elves…”  Saadia remembered her readings. 

“Yeah.”  Vilkas nodded, “And ‘when the Dragonborn Ruler loses his throne, and the White Tower falls’ – well that’s obvious, we no longer have Dragonborn emperors thanks to the Oblivion crisis.  And that weakened the Empire enough for the Aldmeri Dominion to attack many, many years later, and make the White Tower fall during the Great War.”

“Did the tower really fall?”

“No I think it’s just a metaphor.”

“And what’s the Oblivion crisis?”

“Daedric invasion of Tamriel.”

“Alright…”  Saadia’s head was spinning; Tamriel had a lot of history. 

“And the last event – ‘when the Snow Tower lies sundered, kingless, bleeding’ – I think that’s about the Civil War… the High King is dead, there’s no unifying leader.”  He said. 

“And So Alduin has risen.”  She said, “And…”

“You’re the last Dragonborn.”  He said. 

“The last…?”  Saadia felt a sudden weight on her shoulders.

“The last one.”  Vilkas understood the gravity of this. 

“But what happens if the Dragons come back after I’m dead?”  She asked.

“Alduin is fated to destroy this world; he is the world-eater.”  Vilkas said simply.  “I suppose, he’ll succeed when you’re not here to protect it.”  Vilkas mused, “Unless you make it so he can’t ever come back.” 

“That’s what I’ll have to do somehow.”  Saadia said, a mild panic rising in her chest… it was bad enough being the Dragonborn… but to be the last one was an immense pressure. 

Vilkas allowed her to sit in silence for some time.  Tilma came and took the water away and still she sat in silent thought. 

“You said you had other questions?”  He asked gently moving her on from her thoughts.

“Yeah.”  She said softly.  “I suppose I do.”  He waited for her.  Saadia took a deep breath and tried to put the prophecy from her mind.  “I was in some ruins… I promise I was respectful…”  She said, not wanting a lecture from Vilkas.

“I’m sure you looted it.”  He said in a monotone.  She looked at him, trying to gauge his reactions.

“I looted it very respectfully.”  She answered and Vilkas laughed.

“Oh I bet.”  He shook his head, obviously in no mood to lecture her about respecting the dead and Nord customs, “And what happened?”  He asked.

“Well there were these necromancers, fighting draugr… and I thought – why can’t they just control them?  Draugr are dead right?”  She asked.

“Oh the magic that binds draugr is far too powerful for anything other than an advanced necromancer to overcome.”  Vilkas answered. 

“But in another ruin, they weren’t attacking the Silver-Hand.”  She said.  “And they’re not advanced necromancers.”

“Then they saw them as no threat to the ruins, or to themselves… perhaps even saw them as allies.”  Vilkas answered.

“Well that tells you something about the Silver-Hand.” Saadia said meaningfully. 

“It does actually.”  Vilkas said.  “Most draugr were worshippers of the Dragon priests.”  He said and when she gave him a questioning look he continued, “Dragon priests used to worship Dragons as Gods, and they lorded over the people, making themselves vast armies in the names of their Gods.  They were extremely powerful.” 

“I’m not going to encounter any of them coming back to life, am I?”

“The more you delve into Skyrim’s ruins, the more likely it is you’ll have to fight one.”  He answered, “The draugr were their servants in life.”

“And now their servants in death.”

“When the Dragon priest dies, their followers are killed, and reanimated before sealing them in the tomb.” 

“Why?”  Saadia was baffled.

“To worship the priests and maintain their undead state.”  He shrugged, “Some say it was a punishment for worshipping false Gods and helping to enslave Humankind to the Dragons.” 

“They betrayed their own kind.”  She said, nodding slowly.  “And they like the Silver-Hand…”  Saadia mumbled and then looked up at Vilkas.  “What does that say about you?

“What?”  It was his turn to be baffled.

“My sister told me you can tell a lot about a person by the enemies they have made.”  She said, “I think you, and the Circle, must be very good indeed to have enemies like the Silver-Hand.” 

“I hadn’t…”  He lowered his eyes.  He had felt shame for loving his Beastblood for so long, and Saadia made him wonder if maybe it was alright… he still knew it was a curse, a curse he hoped to cure, but perhaps it didn’t stain him as badly as he thought.  “I hadn’t considered that.”  He said finally; but his nature and tendency to brood got the better of him.  “But sometimes both sides in a conflict are evil.”  He finished and Saadia shook her head.

“I suppose.”  She said reluctantly, “But does evil keep the drawings a child makes them.”  She nodded towards a picture Lucia had drawn of her and Vilkas fishing.  “Does evil take a child fishing?”  She added. 

“Evil can be complex.”  He answered, “It can have elements of good in it, just as good can have elements of evil.  I’d say that nothing is ever purely good, as much as we’d like it to be.”  He added thoughtfully. 

“So then you have to admit that you have elements of good in you, even if you think yourself to be mostly evil.”  Saadia said delicately, not looking at him, giving him the chance to take in what she’d said.  Vilkas paused, realising what she’d done; she’d talked him around to the point she was making.  “I mean you do have the Silver-Hand as enemies.”   She drove home her point. 

“I suppose you are right.”  He had to smile at her tenacity. 

“Well I choose to believe what I know to be true.”  She answered stubbornly and he chuckled at her, shaking his head. 

“I believe the Circle is better off for having you in it.”  He answered. 

“Even though I’m not one of you?”

“Perhaps especially so.”  He said, “You bring a different perspective.”  He elaborated.  “Any other questions?”  He asked.

“Yes… we’re all just running on the assumption that I’ve been given Kynareth’s Kiss.”  She said and Vilkas nodded, “So I’m wondering, wouldn’t it just cure me of stuff like vampirism or werewolf… ism?”  She asked. 

“Unfortunately no.”  Vilkas answered, “Kynareth’s Kiss cures all mortal ailments.  Vampirism and the Beastblood both come from Daedric Princes.  They are curses upon mortal-kind sent from Oblivion.” 

“Oh.”  She said softly, thinking about the increase in vampire attacks; eventually she’d have to fight them.  And it was easy to catch vampirism.  “You know the Greybeards said that it’s been debated whether being Dragonborn was a gift or a curse.”  She said, thinking back to Vilkas’s insistence that it was a blessing.

“I have come to understand that some might see it as a curse.”  He answered tightly, “I hope you are starting to see it as a blessing?”

“I’m starting to accept it.”  She answered, “Let’s just take one step at a time!”  She laughed.  “You know you should read the book of the Dragonborn.”  She said and Vilkas laughed.

“I’ve read it.”  He answered, “And I still believe you are descended from Talos, regardless of what that book says.” 

“Stubborn Nord.”  She muttered and he laughed again.

“You better believe it, new blood.”  He answered. 

“Oh I do.”  She said, shaking her head.  “I have daily proof of the stubbornness of Nords.” 

“I hope I’m particularly stubborn.”  Vilkas said with a grin.

“Ridiculously so.”  She answered.  “I have one last question.”  She said and Vilkas nodded.  “Most of these ancient Nord ruins have a back exit,” Vilkas nodded.  “You’ve been in them?”

“Many times.”  He answered.

“But Farkas?”

“Is better suited to other jobs.”  Vilkas answered simply.  “So I give him other jobs.” 

“He did alright in the ruins with me.”  Saadia said.

“Of course he did.”  Vilkas said, “But I would still not send my brother, who I love, into a draugr, spider infested tomb, filled with very clever traps.”  He said meaningfully.  “Not alone, and we mostly do our jobs alone.”

“I see.”  Saadia understood.  Farkas had his own kind of wisdom, but figuring out those traps would not fall under the sphere of his wisdom.  And he did seem to be afraid of spiders…

“He kills bandits better than anyone here.”  Vilkas noted proudly. 

“Play to your strengths.”  Saadia understood.

“Indeed.”  Vilkas noted, “You had a question?  About the tomb exits?”

“These exits are designed so that you have to go through the tomb and all of its traps to find them.”

“Yes.”

“So… what kind of person do you have to be to find them without going through the traps?”  She asked.  “To walk into the ruins and know where they are, and be able to pry the exit open and get straight to the loot without going through the whole tomb?” 

“You had someone get in through the out door?”  He asked and she nodded.  “There’s a few options.”  He said and took down a book, “a very gifted mage, more powerful than even the Dragon priests.”  He said.  “Someone who built the tombs, but obviously they’re not around anymore.”

“Could be a descendant of those people – they may have passed the knowledge down?”

“Perhaps, but why wait so many generations to loot?”

“Perhaps the other generations had that Nord respect for the dead, and this one didn’t?”  Saadia asked and Vilkas shrugged, looking through the book.

“There are some secret organisations that used to exist but no longer do, or might even be myths, who might know… the Nightingales, the Blades… people like that – they made it their job to know everything about Tamriel.  There were probably vast stores of knowledge in their halls before they were destroyed.”  He closed the book and shook his head.

“So what you’re telling me is that there isn’t really anyone?”

“I’m afraid so.”  He answered, “And yet…”

“There is someone.”  Saadia sighed, “And I am going to go and meet with them tonight.”  She said. 

“Be careful.”  Vilkas said seriously and Saadia nodded with equal gravity.  

“Alright, I better go.”  She said, “I really haven’t had enough time with Lucia, and I have to leave before dusk to meet this person.”  She sighed.  “But can I ask more questions later?  I know your time’s valuable but-”  
“Of course, whatever you need.”  Vilkas said and then added, “Shield-sister.” 

“Thanks.”  She said and picked up his greatsword from the table.  “Thanks for loan as well.”  He nodded and she turned to the door. 

“Dovahkiin,” He said softly and she turned back to him.  “The foolish person lies awake all night thinking of their many problems.  When the morning comes they are worn out, and their trouble is just as it was.”  He said meaningfully, “Don’t think on being the last Dragonborn.  Don’t think on it.”   

 

***

 

The sight of a very angry Proventus, pulling a semi-naked and dripping wet Lucia by the ear, Meeko following and barking, his wet fur dripping everywhere, greeted Saadia as she left Jorrvaskr.  Proventus was obviously dragging Lucia back home.

“What’s the meaning of this?”  Saadia said and immediately removed Proventus’s grip on her daughter.

“Your child was caught swimming in the Jarl’s lake… With that… that DOG!”  He said, apoplectic with anger, “the sacred lake - where his fish are grown and caught for the sacred feasts that bless all of Whiterun!”  His voice cracked as he yelled.

“Alright firstly, no one touches my daughter, even her ear, without her permission.”  Saadia answered, “Second, it’s a nice lake, he should let people swim in it on hot days; that’d be safer than everyone going to the river outside of the city walls.  He has two lakes, I’m sure he can spare one of them.  And third, if the Jarl doesn’t like it, he can take it up with me himself.”  Saadia said, putting her hand on Lucia’s shoulder, “She’s a child, she needed to clean her dog, she didn’t know your foolish rules.”  Saadia answered, “And where is her dress?”

“I left it at home mama.”  Lucia said softly, tears on her cheek.

“You ran through the streets of Whiterun in your underwear?”  Saadia asked and Lucia nodded.  “I guess I need to get you some swimming clothes.”  She said and Lucia gave her a watery smile.  Saadia could see that the girl was scared and about to cry again so she picked her up and held her close. 

“I understand that as an outsider you do not understand all of these Nord customs and laws.”  He said, “I am not a Nord, so I do understand.”  Saadia could appreciate his attempts at diplomacy, “But you must understand that this transgression is punishable by death.”

“I will fight and kill anyone that comes near my daughter with the intent of-”

“Not of the child, we’re not savages.”  He said and looked at her, “You are responsible for her.”

“You can try killing me.”  Saadia answered.

“No one will attempt that; you’re the Jarl’s personal friend, Thane of Whiterun… and the Dragonborn.  But you should not consider yourself above the laws.”  And Saadia saw where his anger truly came from; that she should be permitted to not answer the law as everyone else had to. 

“When I know the laws, I will of course adhere to them Proventus.”  Saadia answered, “Send me the laws of Whiterun and I will study them as will Lucia.”  She was glad to see that this instantly placated him. 

“Very well.”  He said, “And I have spoken to the Jarl about opening the lower lake.  He is considering it… even though he is a stubborn Nord, stuck in his ways.”  Proventus sighed, “But I never said that.”

“Of course not.”  Saadia answered and Proventus looked to Lucia.

“I am sorry if I frightened you.”  She nodded slowly.  “Ask permission before you go somewhere in future… and no dogs.”  He said firmly.

“Yes sir.”  She whispered. 

And Saadia knew she had to become Thane of Falkreath.  A parcel of land could be available.  Enough room for Lucia to run around and have fun with her dog.  The land could be farmed to make a steady income for the house and to pay for a personal tutor, and she could stay in Whiterun occasionally to see her friends.  Saadia knew Falkreath wasn’t that far; Helgen was in Falkreath hold. 

“Come on.”  She said to Lucia, “Let’s get you home.”  She gave Proventus a curt nod and headed home, Lucia hugging into her arms, Meeko following behind. 

“Meeko nearly bit Proventus.”  Lucia whispered, “I had to tell him not to.”

“I’m glad you did.”  Saadia knew that had Meeko bitten someone, there was no way she could save him from the axe.  “And I’m glad he’s obedient.”  Meeko barked and Saadia put a hand on his head.  “Did you both enjoy your swim?”

“Yeah.”  Lucia answered, “I’m sorry mama.”  She started to cry and pushed her face into Saadia’s neck.

“No honey, you have nothing to be sorry about, you were just being a kid, and kids are supposed to have fun and do things like swim.”  She told her.  “But we won’t do that again, alright.”

“No mama.  Lucia agreed.

“We’ll ask Lydia to take us to the river instead.”

“Yes mama.” 

 

***

 

“Halt!”  The guard yelled, “Oh it’s you…”  He motioned for her to pass and Saadia shook her head; the guards at Riverwood must be bored.  She walked into town in the growing dusk, heading for the inn to rent the ‘attic room’ as the note had said. 

When she got in Sven was singing a bawdy song and the mead was flowing. 

Saadia said fond hellos to everyone she knew and then sat down to have a meal and the barkeep, a woman named Delphine brought her a plate of venison and vegetables.  She’d rent the room later; keep the thief waiting. 

She supposed now was a good time to talk to Sven about the bandits he’d sent after her; after she’d finished eating. 

When she’d finished her meal, she waited for the song he was currently singing to be over and then approached him.

“What do you want?”  He asked in a hostile tone. 

“You sent bandits after me?”  Saadia asked, “Really Sven?”

“I didn’t.  It must have been my mother.”  He answered, people starting to turn and listen.

“You would let an old woman take the blame for your actions?”  Saadia asked, “Coward!”

Sven shot to his feet, glaring at her.

“If I had sent mercenaries after you, believe me I’d be proud of it!”  He declared, “Camilla is probably going to marry that pointy-eared wood-chopper – and it’s your fault!”  He said angrily, “You took her from me, and you gave her to him!”

“She was never yours!”  Saadia retorted, “She doesn’t belong to anyone, she’s not mine to give or take to anyone!  And the reason you’re in this situation is because you don’t realise that!  Not because of anything I did!”  She told him, hoping he’d learn something.

“I’ll get my revenge on you, mark my words!”  He spat. 

“Just remember Sven, a cleaved head can’t plot.”  She said grimly.

“Are you threatening me?”  Sven asked, the whole inn watching now.

“You’re damned right I am.”  She answered, “Just try sending mercenaries, or bandits, or anything else after me again Sven, and see what happens.”

“I notice you don’t have your bodyguard here today.”  Sven said stepping toe to toe with her, as if ready to fight.

“I don’t need her.”  Saadia answered, “Sit down bard.  Play a jaunty tune.  And never send people to try and kill me again.” 

Sven looked at her for a moment, not wanting to back down, but she saw a glint come into his eye; this wasn’t done yet.  He sat down and picked up his lute.

“A jaunty tune, as requested.”  He said bitterly and broke out into a bloody tale of vengeance. 

“Oh I love this tune.”  Saadia said to Sven before heading to the bar, everyone in the inn slowly turning back to their own drinks. 

“I’d like to rent the attic room.”  Saadia said to Orgnar behind the bar.  He gave her a confused look.

“Attic room, eh?”  He said, “Well, we don’t have an attic room.”  His eyes went to Delphine, “But Delphine takes the room bookings.”  He called Delphine over, “Pretty lady here wants the attic room.”  He said with a laugh. 

“I don’t know who told you we have an attic room.”  Delphine said, “But you can take the room on the left.”  She said pointing to it, “That’ll be 10 gold.” 

Saadia hesitated.  This seemed like a fool’s errand… but then she had thought going to see the Greybeards had been a fool’s errand and it hadn’t been.  She sighed silently and handed the gold to Delphine. 

“Make yourself at home.”  Delphine said with an almost warm smile. 

Saadia went into the room and sat on the bed, listening the crowd getting drunkenly rowdy as Sven’s songs became increasingly bloody and bawdy. 

The door opened and she looked up; it was Delphine.  She closed the door and looked Saadia up and down, one of her hands was behind her back.  Saadia eyed her warily; what was she hiding behind her back?  Who was this woman, really?

“So you're the Dragonborn I've been hearing so much about.”  She said finally.  “I think you're looking for this.”  She took the horn of Jurgen Windcaller from behind her back and Saadia narrowed her eyes at the thief – the person who had the skill and knowledge to break into the tomb through the exit. 

And it was a woman who owned an inn in a small village…

 

 

 


	9. Part 9

 

Saadia said nothing. 

Delphine stepped forward and handed her the horn.

“We need to talk.”  Delphine said urgently, “Follow me.”  She left the room and Saadia put the horn in her satchel before following.

“Doesn’t like the pillow!”  Delphine complained to Orgnar as they crossed the inn to another room.  “Wants to see all our supplies to pick her own!”  Orgnar shook his head and Saadia ignored him, keeping her eyes on Delphine.  “Close the door.”  She said to Saadia as soon as they were both in the new room. 

Saadia did, prepared for anything from this woman. 

As soon as the door was closed, Delphine took out a key and unlocked the large wardrobe.  She moved aside the clothes and pressed a small button hidden in the top inside corner.  The back of the wardrobe lifted to reveal a wood-panelled tunnel – a flight of stairs leading down to a secret room.  Delphine motioned for her to follow and Saadia did, her fingers twitching to unsheathe her sword. 

“The Greybeards seem to think you're the Dragonborn.”  Delphine said when they were both in the room.  Saadia looked around; maps, books, weapons, alchemy ingredients… “I hope they're right.”  Delphine continued.

“They are.”  Saadia answered firmly.

“I hope so.”  Delphine repeated, folding her arms, “But you'll forgive me if I don't assume that something's true just because the Greybeards say so.”  She gave a wry smile, “I just handed you the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller.  Does that make me Dragonborn, too?”  She asked pointedly.

“So you are the one who took it?”  Saadia clarified. 

“Surprised?”  Delphine almost laughed bitterly, “I guess I'm getting pretty good at my harmless innkeeper act.”

“You’re not-”

“What you were expecting?”  Delphine asked, that wry smile returning to her face.  “Good.  The whole point of being in hiding is to appear to be someone you're not.”

“I see.”  Saadia answered, “But why all the cloak and dagger?”  She asked, “Why are you in hiding?”

“You can't be too careful.”  Delphine answered, “Thalmor spies are everywhere.”

“Alright, well here I am.”  Saadia said, tired of these games, “What do you want with me?”

"I didn't go to all this trouble on a whim.”  Delphine replied, “I needed to make sure it wasn't a Thalmor trap.  I am not your enemy.”  She said, seeing Saadia’s obvious distrust, “I already gave you the horn.  I 'm actually trying to help you.  I just need you to hear me out.”

“I’m all ears.”  Saadia folded her arms and fixed Delphine with a glare. 

“I had to find out if the rumours were true… that you might be Dragonborn.”  Delphine said, “I'm part of a group that's been looking for you... well, someone like you, for a very long time.”  Saadia saw a look of hope enter this hard woman’s eyes, but it was gone as soon as it had come, “If you really are Dragonborn, that is.”  She added sceptically.  “Before I tell you any more, I need to make sure I can trust you.”

“I’m not sure I can trust you.”  Saadia answered.

“Then you were a fool to step foot in this place.”  Delphine retorted.

“Or sure of my skills.”  Saadia answered.  “Why did you take the horn?”  She stopped Delphine from retorting further; this was no time for a pissing competition. 

“I knew the Greybeards would send you to retrieve it if they thought you were Dragonborn.”  Delphine answered smugly, “They're nothing if not predictable.”  She said, almost scoffing at them, “When you showed up here, I knew you were the one the Greybeards sent, and not some Thalmor plant.”

“Who exactly are the Thalmor?”  Saadia had heard them named many times, but she was no closer to knowing who they were.

“The faction that rules the Aldmeri Dominion.  The ones who almost destroyed the Empire during the Great War, thirty years back.”  Delphine explained without judgement on Saadia’s lack of knowledge, “There's no worse enemy to Humankind in Tamriel.  The Empire barely survived the last war.  The Thalmor don't intend to lose the next one.”

“So the Thalmor are after you?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“We hurt them in the past, and they have long memories… we're very old enemies.  And if my suspicions are correct, they might have something to do with the Dragons returning.”  Saadia’s eyes narrowed; now this was interesting.  “But that isn't important right now.  What is important is that you might be Dragonborn.”

“I am Dragonborn.”  Saadia answered, “So why are you and your group looking for me.”

“We remember what most don't - that the Dragonborn is the ultimate Dragon-slayer.”  Delphine’s eyes lit up again, “You're the only one that can kill a Dragon permanently by devouring its soul.”  She leaned forward, “Can you do it?  Can you devour a Dragon's soul?”

“Yes, that's how I first learned I was Dragonborn.”  Saadia told her the truth.  Delphine considered this for a moment and nodded.

“Good.  And you'll have a chance to prove it to me soon enough.”

“I don’t have to prove anything to you or anyone else.”  Saadia answered, “It’s you that has to prove yourself to me.”  But Saadia held up her hand to silence Delphine when she started to retort, “What is it that you’re not telling me?”  Saadia thought of what Vilkas had told her about someone who could get in through the out door of the ruins.

“Dragons aren't just coming back, they're coming back to life.”  Delphine answered, “They weren't gone somewhere for all these years.  They were dead, killed off centuries ago by my predecessors.” 

“They were dead?”  Saadia asked, surprised.

“Yes.  And now something's happening to bring them back to life.  And I need you to help me stop it.”

“How can you be sure that the Dragons are coming back to life?”  Saadia asked, unfolding her arms.

“I've visited their ancient burial mounds and found them empty.”  Delphine said, the urgency of her voice, the look in her eyes… Saadia believed her.  “And I've figured out where the next one will come back to life.”

“Where?”

“Kynesgrove.”  Delphine answered, “It’s small village, not unlike Riverwood.”  She said sadly, and Saadia could see the fear of its destruction in her eyes, “We're going to go there, and you're going to kill that Dragon.”  Delphine said firmly, “If we succeed, I'll tell you anything you want to know.”

“The Dragonstone I got for Farengar…”  Saadia understood.  “You were the woman with him when I returned it.”

“Yes.”  Delphine nodded.  “It’s good to see you were paying attention.  I got Farengar to get the Dragonstone for me.  It’s what I do.  I make things happen from behind the scenes.”  She sized Saadia up, “After all, here you are.”  Saadia grunted in reply, so Delphine continued, “The Dragonstone is a map of ancient Dragon burial sites.  I've looked at which ones are now empty.”  She showed the map to Saadia, “The pattern is pretty clear.”  She pointed at the mounds she’d marked off, “It seems to be spreading from the southeast, down in the Jeralls near Riften.  The one at Kynesgrove is next if the pattern holds.”

“Do you know the exact location of this burial mound?”  She asked, knowing that maps in Skyrim where more an art than an exact science.”

“No, we’ll have to search for it… and hopefully we’ll get there before it happens.  Maybe we’ll learn how to stop it.” 

“Let's go kill a Dragon.”  Saadia said, thinking of the townsfolk, living so close to their possible doom.

“I need to change into my travelling gear, then we’ll head out?”

Saadia nodded and turned to look at the room as Delphine turned to her chest and began changing.  Saadia saw the book of Dragonborn, along with a few other lore and history books.  She thumbed through them until Delphine said she was ready.

When Saadia turned to her, she was wearing high quality armour and had a good sword at her hip.  Saadia thought back to what Vilkas had said; perhaps Delphine was part of an extinct or mythological group like the Nightingales or Blades.

As they headed out of the inn, Delphine handed a few things to Orgnar.

“I’m traveling Orgnar.  The inn’s yours until I get back.”  She said.

“Right.”  He replied, “Happy trails.” 

As soon as they left the inn, Delphine looked to the east.

“Kynesgrove is this way.  Stay close; I don’t want you getting yourself killed before we even get there.”

Saadia rolled her eyes at the Nord insistence of assuming she couldn’t handle herself, and set off at a fast sprint, not caring if Delphine followed. 

They ran for some time before Delphine pulled them up short; up ahead there was a glow.  Someone was walking with a torch held aloft on the road ahead. 

They crept closer quietly.

“Thalmor.”  Delphine said.  “With a prisoner.” 

“Let’s free him.”  Saadia said, looking at the three Elves and the ragged, half-starved Nord they were pushing ahead of them. 

“Remember, we're not looking for trouble.”  Delphine said, “We need to get to Kynesgrove as fast as we can.”  She looked at Saadia, “besides, I doubt the Thalmor are aware of you yet; let’s keep it that way so we don’t have to worry about them yet.” 

Saadia set her jaw and narrowed her eyes.

“Fine.”  She said, acknowledging that the town of Kynesgrove was their primary target at present.  But she made a mental note to find where the Thalmor were taking prisoners, and to free them if possible. 

“Better leave the road for a bit.”  Delphine said, she wanted to avoid the Thalmor. 

So they ran cross-country, the insects of the night singing all around them, the twin moons full in the sky above. 

When they returned to the road, Delphine reminded her to be on her guard, and they continued on in silence. 

Until they approached Valtheim Towers; the place Saadia had killed every bandit in a fit of rage…

“This is a notorious bandit hideout.”  Delphine said as they slowed.  “But it's also the shortest way to Kynesgrove, so... we may have to kill a few bandits.”

“I don’t think so.”  Saadia said softly, the dead figure of the first bandit she killed coming into view.

“I see.”  Delphine said looking at the body.  “Your work?”

“Yes.”  Saadia answered. 

“Well that makes things easier.”

They continued without another word on the topic. 

“There’s an inn at Kynesgrove.”  Delphine said as they ran, “It’s called the Braidwood.  I hear they serve a nice dark ale.  It’s nothing on the Sleeping Giant of course.”  She said wryly. 

“Let’s hope they’re still serving that nice dark ale after we’re finished.”  Saadia said.

“You afraid the Dragon will destroy the town?”

“No.  I just get thirsty after killing a Dragon.”  Saadia answered. 

Delphine watched her from the corner of her eye for a moment.

“I'm glad you were willing to trust me.  I know it probably wasn't the best way to introduce myself.  But old habits... you know.”

“Sure.”  Saadia answered, still not trusting Delphine yet.  She’d see what she had to say after the Dragon was dead.  Assuming there was a Dragon there to kill of course. 

They crossed the White River and headed towards Windhelm.  Saadia was interested to see that city; the home of Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak.  She watched the city in the distance, growing larger as they got closer.  It was hard to make anything out in the dark, and she supposed that one day she’d actually have to visit.

But not today; they ran on to Kynesgrove, south-east of Windhelm.

“We’re nearly at Kynesgrove.”  Delphine said, “We’re probably going to both end up dead…”  She said and laughed, Saadia giving her a look, “At least it gets me out of Riverwood!”  She laughed, Saadia laughing too, “I don’t think I’m cut out for the quiet life.”

“Me either.”  Saadia answered, “Lucky for both of us I’m the Dragonborn.”  She said, “We’ll both get to see that beautiful, but boring, town again.”

“If you’re Dragonborn… my life is going to change.”  Delphine answered.  “Either way, no more quiet life.”  She said with another laugh. 

And then a roar shattered the quiet night sky.

“Dragon…”  Delphine whispered, hardly able to believe it.

There were screams from the town, and Saadia put on extra speed, running towards the sounds of chaos, Delphine not far behind. 

"Lorkhan's eyes! Look at that big bastard!"  Delphine said as they caught sight of a big black Dragon, circling around and going out of sight, the crest of the hill blocking their view. 

“I’ve seen that Dragon before…”  Saadia whispered.  “Helgen…” 

They started to see people running down the hill.

“DRAGON!”  Someone screamed.  A woman caught hold of Delphine and shook her head.

“You don’t want to go up there!”  She cried, “A Dragon’s attacking!”

“That’s exactly where I want to be.”  Saadia answered and unsheathed her sword, continuing on.

“Keep your head down, let's see what it does.”  Delphine said, “This is what we came for.  We need to see what happens…”

“I already know what happens when a Dragon is around.”  Saadia answered.  “And I intend to stop it and kill it.”  She continued up the hill, through the town, running too fast for Delphine to keep up. 

The Dragon was hovering above a hill behind part of the small town. 

Saadia could hear his words…

“Sahloknir, zil gro dovah ulse.”  Saadia listened to the Dragon’s words, almost understanding them, “Slen tiid vo!”

The mound the big black Dragon was hovering over burst apart; rocks and dirt flying everywhere. 

Saadia ran up the hill, bodies of guards were strewn along the road, a Dragon was pulling itself out of the ground, glowing purple as the hovering, big black Dragon used the power of its Voice to bring it back to life.

When the Dragon had finally freed itself from the burial mound, the two Dragon’s spoke for a moment, before Saadia took out her bow and arrows, took aim at the big black Dragon and fired at it, hitting it in the snout. 

When she had both Dragon’s attention, thus protecting the town, she let lose a Shout; letting them know she as here to fight.

“YOL!”  Her fire hit both Dragons. 

The newly risen Dragon circled away, but the big black one seemed to laugh, fixing its eyes on her, it sized her up.  Then it simply turned and flew away; its job here was done, and there was a Dragon here ready to devour her.  The Dragon that had destroyed Helgen, saw her as no threat to it or its plans.  Saadia decided she’d have to change that; turning her attention to the underling it had left to finish her off.

The newly risen Dragon circled around and looked down at her.

“I am Sahloknir!  Hear my Voice and despair!”  He declared before raining down a blast of fire. 

Saadia rolled away from the fire and saw an arrow sail through the air at the Dragon; Delphine had arrived. 

“I am Dovahkiin,” She yelled back at the Dragon, “The Human that’s going to end you.” 

The Dragon roared and began to shout;

“YOL-”

But Saadia Shouted back at it.

“FUS RO!”  Her Shout forced the Dragon’s fire back into its face, disorientating it and making it circle away again.  It passed low over Saadia and she quickly sheathed her sword and grabbed hold of its tail, being lifted off the ground. 

Saadia climbed along its tail as it turned to blast Delphine with fire; her arrows flinging off its hard hide.  She saw Delphine dive away just in time, heard more screams from the townsfolk, saw more guards rushing towards the Dragon.

But she just kept climbing up its back as it soared over the earth, circling back around for another attack.

The Dragon took aim at the fleeing villagers.

“NO YOU DON’T!”  Saadia screamed through gritted teeth as she got closer to the Dragon’s head.

But the Dragon did let loose a burst of flame at the villagers.  Saadia heard the screams, the pain, could smell the burning flesh.

And she took out her sword, raising it high above her head, the tip pointing downwards, she drove it through the Dragon’s skull.

The effect was instant.  The Dragon began falling the earth, Saadia clinging to it with all her strength, even as she felt it begin to lose its shape, to become ash and flames.  She felt the heat as the fire of its soul burned up and crackled and its light began to pour into her.

The Dragon crashed to the earth, dirt exploding up as it skidded along, its body disintegrating into nothing as it did, Saadia taking its soul and learning a Word with it.  Feim… it meant fade.  Saadia understood that with this Word she could become ethereal for a short time – and no blade could hurt her when she was ethereal.

Delphine watched with wide eyes as the Dragon stopped, only metres in front of her, nothing but a skeleton, Saadia climbing from the wreckage. 

“You did it…”  Delphine could barely believe her eyes.  “You killed it… and… and… Gods above.  You really are Dragonborn.” 

Saadia stepped forward and sheathed her sword.

“The villagers need help.  Then we have to talk.”

“Of course.”  Delphine said, still staring at her in disbelief. 

They ran down the hill back to the town.

There they found a man, heaped over, holding a woman in his arms, weeping, screaming at the sky. 

“Kjeld…”  Another man came over to him, “Kjeld be strong for your children.”

Saadia turned to see two huddled children staring at the man, holding their dead mother.  A woman went over to them and gently soothed them.

“Come on Kjeld junior, come Froa, come inside with me.”  She said, easing them away from the sight. 

“Iddra, no…”  Kjeld wept, rocking her body back and forth. 

“Are there any wounded?”  Delphine asked, “I have healing potions and herbs.”

“Yes, many of us have burns.”

Saadia let Delphine tend to the wounds of the villagers while she approached Kjeld, who would not be separated from the body of his beloved wife. 

“It’s not right that she’s dead.”  Saadia said as she knelt down.  The man didn’t look up at her.  Saadia could see that most of the woman’s body was burned, only half of her face had been spared.  “I killed the Dragon that did this.”  He looked up at her.  “And I will kill every Dragon in Skyrim.” 

“Dragonborn?”  He asked and she nodded, putting her hand on his shoulder.

“Come friend, let us bury her together.”

He sniffed and looked down at his wife again, tears dripping from his cheeks.  He nodded and got up, lifting his dead wife into his arms as he did. 

He led her to a small place in the side of the hills where they buried their dead, and together they dug her grave.

People from the village came, many saying it was lucky that only one of them had died.  Others saying that there were nearly 20 dead guards with families who would be waking up to hear the news tomorrow. 

It was a bad night.

 

***

 

The next morning, they had breakfast in the Braidwood inn, Kjeld was not yet ready to start cooking and tending the inn, so the local miners were helping him out.  Saadia had no doubt he’d get back on his feet; Nord people were stubborn, fierce and proud.  He’d not let even a Dragon break his spirit.  But he had loved his wife dearly, and the grief still hung too heavy on him.  Saadia knew it would for a while. 

Delphine looked around the empty inn.  Once the miners had fed their visitors, they headed off to work the mine.  Kjeld and his children were staying home for now. 

“I suppose I owe you some answers.”  Delphine said in a subdued tone.

“I suppose so.”  Saadia said. 

Neither of them looked at each other.  There was a long moment of silence. 

“What do you know about the Dragons coming back?”  Saadia asked in a thick voice, ready to kill Delphine if she could have avoided what had happened so far.  Delphine heard the danger in Saadia’s voice, and accepted the accusation that came with it without comment.

“Not a damn thing.”  She answered, “I was just as surprised as you to find that big black Dragon here.”

“That’s the Dragon that destroyed Helgen.”  Saadia said.  “When Ulfric escaped from the Imperials.”

“Interesting.”  Delphine said, “Same Dragon...”  She tried to figure it all out, “Damn it, we're blundering around in the dark here!  We need to figure out who's behind it all!”  Saadia grunted in reply.

“And who are you?  And your group?  And what do you want with me?”

“I'm one of the last members of the Blades.”  Delphine said and Saadia nodded; Vilkas had been right.  Again.  “A very long time ago, the Blades were Dragon-slayers, and we served the Dragonborn, the greatest Dragon-slayer.  For the last two hundred years, since the last Dragonborn emperor, the Blades have been searching for a purpose.”  She looked at Saadia, “Now that Dragons are coming back, our purpose is clear again.  We need to stop them.”

“The Blades are supposed to be extinct.”

“Exactly.  Nobody even remembers our name these days.”  Delphine answered, “We used to be known across Tamriel as the protectors of the Septim Emperors.  Those days are long gone, though.”  She looked down, “For the last two hundred years, we've been searching for the next Dragonborn to guide and guard, as we are sworn to do.  But we never found one.”  She looked back at Saadia.  “Until now."

It wasn’t lost on Saadia that she now had two groups of people claiming to be the ones to guide her; the Greybeards and the Blades. 

“I see.”  Saadia took a bite of her casserole. 

“The first thing we need to do is figure out who's behind the Dragons.  The Thalmor are our best lead.  If they aren't involved, they'll know who is.”  Delphine said. 

“Why are the Thalmor after you?”

“Before the Great War, the Blades helped the Empire against the Thalmor.  Our Grand Master saw them as the greatest threat to Tamriel.  At the time, that was true.  Maybe it still is.”  She said thoughtfully, “So we fought them in the shadows, all across Tamriel.  We thought we were more than a match for them.”  She paused, her voice dropping with sadness, “We were wrong.”

“What makes you think the Thalmor are bringing Dragons back?”  Saadia asked, aware that this could just be a vendetta from a woman with a long history of animosity towards the Thalmor. 

“Nothing solid.”  She admitted.  “Yet.  But my gut tells me it can't be anybody else.”  She shook her head.

“Your gut…”  Saadia said, looking at her, measuring her.

“The Empire had captured Ulfric.  The war was basically over.”  Delphine explained, “Then a Dragon attacks, Ulfric escapes, and the war is back on.  And now the Dragons are attacking everywhere, indiscriminately.  Skyrim is weakened, the Empire is weakened.  Who else gains from that but the Thalmor?”

“It was prophesised they’d return.”

“Yeah but no one said how they’d return.”  Delphine said. 

“So how do we find out what the Thalmor know about the Dragons?”

“If we could get into the Thalmor Embassy...”  Delphine said and saw that Saadia hadn’t heard of it, “it's the centre of their operations in Skyrim... Problem is, that place is locked up tighter than a miser's purse.  They could teach me a few things about paranoia...”

“So we have no way in?”

“Not yet… But I have a few ideas.  I'll need some time to pull things together... But understand Dragonborn.  This could take some time to pull together… weeks, maybe even months.  And these Dragon attacks… it’s only going to get worse.”

“I’ll try to keep the Dragons under control in the meantime.”  Saadia answered. 

“I’ll send word for you via courier when I’ve got something.”

“Understood.”

“Here’s a key to my secret room.”  Delphine said handing it to her, “Take anything you need.”

 

***

 

The trip back up the mountain to the Greybeards was in beautiful clear weather and totally uneventful, except for one thing.

The whole way, a large pack of wolves followed her, howling and barking in greeting when they saw her, stopping only when she got to the final stairs to the fortress of High Hrothgar.  She left the cooked beef she’d bought from Braidwood Inn on the bottom of the steps and went in.

Arngeir was awaiting her in the inner courtyard, like he’d known she was coming.

She held up the horn.

“Ah!”  He said with a smile, “You’ve retrieved the horn of Jurgen Windcaller.”  The other Greybeards came into the room, “Well done, you have now passed all of the trials.  Come with me, it is now time for us to recognise you formally as Dragonborn.”  She followed him further into the courtyard.  “You are ready to learn the final Word of Unrelenting Force: ‘Dah’ which means push.” 

Master Wulfgar taught her the Word, and gave of himself to her so she could use it. 

The power of knowing a full Shout was remarkable.  All three Words tingled, singed and danced inside of her.  It was incredible.  She could feel the power of them as they came together in her mind.  Shouting them would be an experience…

“With all three Words together, this Shout is more powerful.”  Arngeir told her, “Use it wisely.”  The Greybeards moved to be standing around her, one at each corner.  “You have completed your training Dragonborn.  We would speak to you.”  Saadia understood; all 4 Greybeards were going to actually speak… “Stand between us and prepare yourself.  Few can withstand the unbridled Voice of the Greybeards.  But you are ready.”  Arngeir held up his hands, and the four men began to speak in unison.

“Lingrah krosis saraan Strundu'ul, voth nid balaan klov praan nau.” 

The whole world seemed to be shaking.  Saadia bent into the force and gritted her teeth, only able to take a breath when they paused. 

“Naal Thu'umu, mu ofan nii nu, Dovahkiin, naal suleyk do Kaan, naal suleyk do Shor, ahrk naal suleyk do Atmorasewuth.” 

They paused again and Saadia looked around, much more able to handle it with each word they spoke. 

“Meyz nu Ysmir, Dovahsebrom. Dahmaan daar rok.” 

She was standing, even as the earth shook beneath her feet when they said the last few words.  They all noticed her power, and none of them doubted the truth; she was Dragonborn. 

“Dovahkiin.”  Arngeir bowed to her, “You have tasted the Voice of the Greybeards, and passed through unscathed.  High Hrothgar is open to you.”

“Thank you.”  Saadia said, having that strange feeling like she had almost understood what had been said to her.

“What was it that you just Shouted to me?”  She asked.

“We spoke the traditional words of greeting to a Dragonborn who has accepted our guidance.”  Argneir replied, “The same words were used to greet the young Talos when he came to High Hrothgar, before he became the emperor Tiber Septim.”

“What did you actually say?”

“Ah, I sometimes forget that you are not versed in the Dragon tongue as we are.  This is a rough translation;” He cleared his throat, “Long has the Stormcrown languished, with no worthy brow to sit upon.  By our breath we bestow it now to you in the name of Kyne, in the name of Shor, and in the name of Atmora of Old.  You are Ysmir now, the Dragon of the North, hearken to it.”

“I’d like to learn more about the Voice.”  Saadia said.

“You have learned so much already Dragonborn.  Growing your gift too quickly would be dangerous.”  But he seemed to think of something and continued; “But there are many Words of Power in Skyrim, carved in the Dragon Tongue.  Even from here, we can feel the Thu’um resonate from them.”  Saadia understood that resonation he was talking about – the pull of the Words… but she couldn’t feel anything from here.  “Finding these lost Words would be a sufficient test, to temper your abilities with experience.  Ask when you are ready to search.”

“I’m ready.”  Saadia said instantly. 

“We have felt the whisper of a Word.  Give me your map and I will show you where its echo can be found.”  He said.  “Sky guard you.”  He said and motioned for her to head to bed.  Saadia headed to her alcove and checked out the casserole they’d cooked for her. 

Saadia looked at the map and the mark Arngeir had made.  It was a start to growing her power, but Saadia understood now – there were a lot of people that wanted to guide her, or lay claim to her.  But the only way she was going to learn was to get out there.  Playing house with Lucia was going to have to be curtailed; she had to stop the Dragons. 

She felt heavy in the heart when she went to bed in the silent, cold halls of High Hrothgar. 

But this, it seemed, was her destiny. 

 

***

 

The beef was gone when she came outside the next morning.  But the wolves weren’t.  They stood, in the open, waiting for her.

She walked up to the large wolf that stood in front of the others.  Her jaw was scarred but functional, and it gave her no pain.  Saadia reached her hand out to the wolf and she licked her hand.  She sat down in the snow and the whole pack approached, each smelling her and licking her hand.  The alpha sat down and Saadia stroked her fur.

She stayed with them for an hour before they took off; hunting a mountain goat. 

The rest of the journey down the mountain was uneventful and quick. 

When she got to Ivarstead, she saw three people in robes, questioning Gwilin closely. 

“What’s going on?”  She asked as she got nearer, Gwilin looking thankful for her interruption. 

“We are Vigilant of Stendarr.”  One of them said, “And we are questioning this Elf about reports he has a Daedric artefact.”

“I told you I don’t.”  Gwilin interrupted. 

“You’re a Vigilant of Stendarr…?”  Saadia thought about their destroyed hall. 

“Yes.  Our order was founded after the Oblivion Crisis.  We dedicate our lives to facing the threat of Daedra wherever they appear.”

“Who's Stendarr?”  She asked; she knew he was a God, but not much else.

“He is the God of Mercy.  The patron of order and justice for all of Tamriel.  We bring his compassion where none can be found, by cleansing all those who would offend his children.”

“And…”  She looked them up and down, “You hunt Daedra?”  Saadia knew that Daedra were a race of extremely powerful supernatural beings, older than the stars… She doubted she would be able to fight a Daedra, let alone these three.

“And any other abominations that prey on mortals.”  He answered in a righteous tone, “Vampires.  Werewolves.  Witches.”  Saadia tried not to make any sign at the word ‘werewolf’ – another group of people hunting her family.  She sighed internally, “But the Daedra are the worst.  Their callous disregard for our lives is abhorrent in the eyes of the God of Mercy.”

“I wish you luck.”  Saadia said, “But perhaps you need to return to your hall.”

“Our hall...?  Why?”  He sounded alarmed.

“A vampire attack.”  Saadia said, “Everyone is dead.”

“That can’t be!”  He cried, turning to the other Vigilant. 

“No vampire could ever kill our leader, Keeper Carcette.”  One of the others said.

“Well maybe she’s alive somewhere, but it’s not at your hall.”  Saadia said, not feeling as sympathetic towards them as she possibly should; they wanted to hurt her family… and they were harassing Gwilin. 

“We must go.”  The third said and they rushed off.

Saadia turned to Gwilin.

“Thank you friend.”  He said.

“Have yourself a great day Gwilin.”  Saadia said.

“I will!”  He answered. 

 

***

 

“Mama!”  Lucia flung herself at Saadia and she hugged the girl tightly.  “I found a pearl!  I want you to have it.  It’s the least I can do.  You’ve done so much for me.”

“You don’t owe me anything Lucia!”  Saadia said, “It’s been my pleasure, my honour, to have you as my daughter, you’ve been a gift to me!”  She held the girl and walked past Warmaiden’s and into her home.

“My Thane!”  Lydia said happily.  “You’re back in time for food.”  She looked at Lucia, “And you’re back late.  Go wash up.”  She said and Lucia groaned.

“Yes Lydia.” 

“Any news?”  Saadia asked as she sat down.

“We had an anonymous donation of clothing.”  Lydia said.  “Both child’s and adults.” 

“What?”

“I left the adult clothing in your room.”  Lydia said. 

“Anonymous?”

“It was on our doorstep.”  Lydia answered, “must be 1000 coins worth.”  She said with a small smile, knowing that it was likely someone at Jorrvaskr that had done this.

“Vilkas.”  Saadia said and went upstairs.  She’d told him about her clothing and money situation and now…

She looked at the clothes piled up on her bed.

Dresses; beautiful dresses.

Tunics, every colour of the flowers in the fields.

Pants of outstanding quality. 

She touched the bright green tunic; a soft and good quality fabric.  She took her armour off and slipped into the green tunic, putting on some comfortable leather pants.  She groaned in delight.  Good clothes felt good, and these fit her perfectly. 

She folded them up and put as many that would fit in her chest as possible.

“I need a wardrobe.”  She said to herself happily. 

When she got back downstairs, Lydia was eating plain bread and drinking water while Lucia ate pheasant and roasted vegetables, a snowberry cordial for her drink.

“Lydia what are you eating?”

“Bread, my Thane.”

“Why aren’t you eating what Lucia eats?”

“Because what Lucia eats is expensive, and-”

“New rule Lydia, you will eat what the rest of the family eats.”  Saadia took the bread from her and served up some meat and vegetables for her. 

“But coin is low.”  Lydia said in a low voice.

“I’ll worry about that.”  She said, “I’ve got more coin for you upstairs.” 

“Thank you my Thane.”

“I have to go and thank Vilkas for these clothes…”  Saadia wondered if she should refuse them.  She couldn’t afford to refuse them. 

“But mama you just got home.”  Lucia said.

“I’ll be around for a few days.”  She said.

“Good!”  Lucia said.

“Then I’ll have to go again.”  Saadia was thinking of that land in Falkreath again.  Maybe that could make her some coin. 

 

***

 

“Did you know that the Vigilant of Stendarr want to kill you two?”  Saadia asked as she sat down next to Farkas at the outside tables.  She sat with one leg under the table, the other foot up on the chair, her knee sticking up, and took a piece of cheese from Farkas’s plate. 

“Yes.”  Vilkas said, unimpressed.  But she noticed him eyeing her clothes, looking pleased with himself.  She knew he thought he was being subtle.  She nearly laughed. 

“They’re not very scary.”  Farkas answered, putting his hand on her knee.

“Vampires destroyed their hall.”  She shrugged and Vilkas scoffed and then cleared his throat, clearly trying to hide his laugh.  Farkas shrugged and pushed some chicken into his mouth. 

“How’d it go?”  Farkas asked, knowing only some of what she had been away doing and all the trials and tribulations she’d gone through.

“The Greybeards called me Ysmir.”  She said, taking some of his chicken.  “Who’s Ysmir?”  Vilkas shook his head.  “I know, I bring dishonour and shame to the Dragon Blood – I know nothing about anything.”  She said.  He sighed.

“Ysmir is Talos.”  Farkas answered.

“Ysmir is a title.”  Vilkas corrected, “It means Dragon of the North.  It means you are Dragonborn.”  He looked and took a deep breath.  “I knew it… but to have it confirmed…” 

Farkas and Saadia shared a look; Vilkas seemed a little in awe, and they both found it amusing. 

“Ysmir is Talos.”  Farkas repeated, “And also you.”  He added with a grin.  He kissed her and she made a retching sound.

“You have food all over your face!”  She laughed. 

“You’re looking too thin!”  He laughed and kissed her again.  “Just giving you some food.”  She took some fried potato from his plate.

“I’d rather it this way.”  She said, still grinning at him.  Then she turned to Vilkas.

“So who’s Shor?  Try not to roll your eyes at me.”  She added.

“He’s the Nordic representation of the god Lorkhan.”  Saadia recognised that name – Delphine had said it, “He’s Kyne’s husband, and the embodiment of Sovngarde.”  Vilkas told her. 

“Alright.”  Saadia said, “And Atmora?” 

“Ysgramor’s homeland.”  Vilkas said, “Where the Nords came from.” 

“So you’re telling me that Nords aren’t originally from Skyrim, but still want to claim it as their own?”  Saadia asked.

“We claim it as our ancestral home.”  He answered with a shrug. 

“Ah, of course.  Convenient...”  She answered.  She had known the Nords claimed Skyrim as their ancestral home; she hadn’t known that the Elves had been here first.  Control of Tamriel had always been a battle between the Elves and Humans; the Human Empire and the Elven Aldmeri Dominion were just the current players. 

“So what happens now?”  Farkas asked, “Now it’s all official?”

“As far as I can tell, nothing.”  Saadia said, “Other than everyone thinking they have a claim to me now.” 

“More pressure.”  Vilkas noted, pulling meat off the bones and eating it.  Saadia took some more of Farkas’s dinner, wishing she’d eaten at home. 

“I can take it.”  Saadia said, “Mostly because I’ve chosen to ignore it.”

“How long do you think that’ll carry you?”  Vilkas asked.

“I’m getting some more.”  Farkas said, “And I’ll get you a plate.”  He said to Saadia before heading back into Jorrvaskr to get more food. 

“Denial won’t carry me as far as all the new clothes.”  She said, “Thank you.” 

Vilkas kept his eyes on his food, still eating.

“I just mentioned to Ria that you had no clothes, and suddenly the Companions are all finding clothes on their jobs.  Telling her they found this dress in a chest, or that tunic in the cave where they killed a bear.”  He shrugged, “Ria sure can gossip.”  He noted, “Sorry to have gotten your business all over Jorrvaskr.” 

“And the clothes just magically happen to fit me perfectly.”  She said and Vilkas looked up at her, meat in his fingers, chewing slowly. 

“I guess we’re all good at sizing you up, new blood.”  He answered, putting another piece of meat in his mouth.  “Eorlund finished with your sword.  I hope mine’s at your place?”

“Yes, sorry!  I forgot to bring it back with me.”

“I’ll pick it up tomorrow, don’t leave without yours.  It’s in my room.”

“Thank you.”

“Eorlund said you need to go visit him up at the forge more often, he’s been upgrading all of our weapons and armour, that’s why my blade could break yours; yours hadn’t been honed yet.” 

“I’d been meaning to go up and get my steel seen to.”  Saadia answered.

“Too much going on?”  He asked.

“There’s a lot.”  She said, “The Blades aren’t extinct.”  She said to illustrate that fact.

“Really?”  He asked, “That’ll be interesting for you.”  He said. 

“Both the Blades and the Greybeards claim to be the ones who are meant to guide me.”  She said, “but I don’t really like either of them.”  She nearly laughed at the look on Vilkas’s face; he looked like she’d said something blasphemous. 

“I don’t understand…?”

“You don’t understand?”  She asked.  “I thought that was Farkas’s line.” 

“What’s that?”  Farkas asked as he came back out, handing a big plate of food to Saadia and sitting down with his own, equally big plate.

“I was just saying that I don’t really like the Greybeards or the Blades – they both think they’re the ones to guide me.”  Saadia said to him and he chuckled.

“Yeah, you wouldn’t like that.”  Farkas answered and Saadia gave Vilkas a meaningful look. 

“The Greybeards want me to use my Voice to worship the Gods and nothing else, forget about saving Skyrim from the threat of Dragons.”  She said, “And the Blades have their own agenda too, but it’s hard to be sure exactly what it is under all the paranoia; but it involves hating the Thalmor.”

“Well you can’t go wrong with that plan.”  Farkas said with a grin, “But you should probably make your own plan.”

“I intend to.”  Saadia answered.  Vilkas listened to this thoughtfully. 

“The Dragonborn always makes their own fate.”  Vilkas said. 

“Also Alduin…””  Saadia looked at Vilkas, “what does he look like?”

“No one knows.”  Vilkas said, “But it was written somewhere that he was large, black, and with many horns.”  Vilkas thought for a moment, “I could try and find the book?”

“No.”  Saadia answered, “I think I’ve seen him twice now.”  She said, “He’s raising his dead brethren.” 

“Shor’s bones.”  Vilkas said, understanding the magnitude of Saadia’s revelation.

“Then we’ll put them back in the ground.”  Farkas said. 

“Indeed we will.”  Saadia answered. 

“Old man!”  Vilkas said, alerting them to Kodlak coming out of Jorrvaskr. 

“Kodlak,” Saadia said, “We have much to talk about.” 

“Let an old man sit in the crisp air in peace.”  He said with a grim smile and sat down with them.  But he sighed in resignation and looked at her.  “What is it girl?”

“Farkas turned in front of me, he had no choice, he was going to be killed.”  She said, both brothers turned to her in shock and Kodlak stared at her evenly while Farkas began to apologise to Kodlak, but Saadia spoke over him, “I’ve been thinking about it, and it was definitely a trap.  They knew we were coming.”

“You think someone told them?”  Vilkas asked.

“Not our Shield-siblings, they’d never betray us.”  Farkas said.

“No, I think the scholar who told you where this shard was, was sent by them, and they orchestrated the whole thing.  They even had the draugr under control in the ruins.”  She said, “I think they have all the remaining shards of Wuuthrad and they’re going to use them to try and lure the initiated Circle members out.”  Saadia said. 

“Well that’s a lot to take in.”  Kodlak said after a deep breath, “You’ve seen things that you should not have seen.”  He said. 

“With all respect owed to one of your standing,” Saadia said, “We’re well past that now, old man.”  Kodlak gave her a small smile.  “We have to make a plan to retrieve the shards.”

“We have to assume they’re not keeping them all in the same location.”  Vilkas answered. 

“We’ll need to talk about this with all the members of the Circle.”  Kodlak answered.  “All of it…”  He said looking at Saadia closely.”

“I understand.”  She answered, “But I want there to be honesty between us.  I’m in the Circle, what’s the point of that if we can’t trust each other.” 

“Very true.”  Kodlak agreed.

“Anyway… how did the Silver-Hand find out about,” She looked around to make sure they were alone, “The fact that you’re werewolves?”  She said in a low tone.

“It is a sad story.”  Kodlak said, “You may have noticed that the main table in the hall has 7 chairs, but there at not 7 Circle mambers.”

“I had.”  Saadia answered.

“A few months before you came, one of the members of the Companions, Brandlar, told his lover of 5 years, the secret of the Circle.  But he was deceived; she had been keeping a secret of her own.”

“She was Silver-Hand.”  Saadia guessed.

“Yes.”  Kodlak said.  “She had not known our secret; the Silver-Hand had not suspected it at all… And the first thing she did was deliver him to the Circle.”

“The next thing she did was lure Nurie away and into a trap.”  Vilkas said.

“Nurie was friends with Brandlar’s lover.”  Kodlak said.

“We all were.”  Farkas said. 

“We trusted her.”  Vilkas added.

“So it was easy for Brandlar’s lover to lure her away.  They tortured Nurie for weeks.  They sent us pieces of her.”  Kodlak said.  Saadia saw the pent up rage in both of the brother’s faces.  Kodlak was deeply grieved.  “They tortured her for information, and we know not what she may have told them.”

“Like the importance of Wuuthrad to you?”  Saadia asked and Kodlak nodded slowly.

“Perhaps.”  He said thoughtfully.  “I hear you’ve seen the Greybeards.”  He said.

“Yes.”

“How did you like them?”

“I liked them alright.”  Saadia shrugged, “But they have their own agenda, and they won’t tell me my destiny, even though they act like they know it.” 

“The pattern of life is not woven ahead of time, like cloth to be worn later as a tunic.”  Kodlak told her, “Rather, life is woven at the very instant you live it.”

“I make my own destiny.”  Saadia agreed.  There was moment of thoughtful retrospection before Saadia spoke again.  “I need some archery training, who’s best to help me?”  She asked.

“Aela.”  Farkas answered.

“I’ll teach you some.”  Kodlak said, “But no doubt Aela will fill in the rest.”

“I’d like that.”  Saadia answered.

“Come on then.”  Kodlak said, getting up as Aela came outside.  “Let me try to teach you something.”  He motioned for her to follow him to the archery practice targets. 

Aela sat down with the brothers, a plate of food in front of her. 

“It’s a good night for eating outside.”  Farkas noted.

“It’s always a good night for that when Njada and Athis are fighting again.”  Aela noted. 

“Skjor will be happy teaching then.”  Vilkas said and Aela nodded. 

“He has a soft spot for Njada.”  She said.

“Sees himself in her.”  Vilkas agreed. 

“So you’re not afraid that the Dragonborn will steal your brother away from you anymore then Vilkas?”  Aela teased and Farkas furrowed his brows at Vilkas.

“What do you mean Shield-sister?”  Vilkas asked politely, despite knowing exactly what she meant. 

“Well you’re being nicer to her now.”  Aela answered; Vilkas had not expected that answer. 

“She’s my Shield-sister now.”  He answered.

“So am I, but you still manage to be as pleasant as a Hagraven’s dried up kunte to me.”  She said. 

“Only when you’re as pleasant as a Horker’s shit-stained arsehole to me.”  Vilkas answered, “And my brother.”

There was a moment of silence and Aela cackled merrily, the brothers joining in with her laughter.  She raised her tankard.

“To the best damned family!” 

Farkas and Vilkas rose their tankards and they all downed their drinks in one long gulp. 

Kodlak looked back at them as he took a bow and some arrows from the stands near the archery targets. 

“Not the best bows.”  He admitted, “But good for training.”  He handed it to her.  “What do you know about archery?”

“Pull back on the string, aim the arrow, let go.”  Saadia answered. 

“When I was a young lad,” Kodlak said, “My mother taught me, that the key to aiming correctly was focus.”  He motioned for her to draw back the string, an arrow in place.  “She said to draw an imaginary line between the tip of your arrow and the place you want it to hit, then imagine the arrow traveling along that line.”

“Arrows always dip.”  Saadia answered.

“Yes they do.”  Kodlak said, “And you must always take into account that journeys in Skyrim are never straightforward and easy.”  He said with a smile.  “Picture the line.”  He said.  “Now picture the journey.”  He said, “And make the arrow follow it.” 

Saadia focussed and envisioned the journey as he had said.  She took a deep breath and let loose the arrow.  It hit the outer ring and she frowned.

“That was good.”  He said.

“I didn’t hit the mark.”

“The first time I did it, I hit my older brother in the thigh.”  He started to laugh, “My father thought I had killed him!  My brother complained as though I had!”  Saadia started to laugh with him, “There was a lot of blood and sour looks, but he got over it, and got a scar that he could brag about… he always lied about how he got the scar and I always backed him up on the lie rather than admit my own poor aim!” 

“Sounds like you had a wonderful childhood.”  Saadia said.

“Parts of it were.”  He nodded, “But the summer moments always pass too quickly in this land.  It’s cold land by nature.” 

“I understand.”  Saadia said.

“I know.”  Kodlak said as Aela approached. 

“If he’s teaching you the envisioning thing, ignore him.”  Aela said and Kodlak started to laugh.  She took the bow and arrows and barely without taking aim she fired and hit the dead centre of the target.  Saadia stared at the arrow, quivering slightly because it had hit the target so hard.

“You are gifted.”  Kodlak said, “But not everyone can simply feel the shot.”  He reminded her. 

“If you want archery lessons I’m available.”  She said to Saadia.  “Kodlak’s good, but he’s not as good as me.”

“She’s right.”  Kodlak answered freely. 

“Thanks Aela, I’ll come to you a little later on?”

“As you wish.”  Aela said and walked away.  Saadia looked back at the target and compared the 2 arrows.  Aela’s was deeper in the board, sticking straight out, dead in the centre.  Saadia’s was stuck in at an angle, part of the head not all the way in the target, and in the outer ring.  She sighed.

“Don’t compare your beginning chapter to other’s who are halfway through the book.”  Kodlak said, “Instead, look at how far you have come.”  He looked back at the target, “Try again, perhaps you’ll be closer this time.”

Saadia’s arms were aching when she came back in, first Kodlak then Aela had trained her for hours.  It was early morning; still dark, and everyone was asleep, except Ria who was on guard duty.

“Hey, thanks for the clothes.”  Saadia said as she got herself a drink.

“What?”  Ria asked.  “Clothes?”

“Oh, sorry, my mistake.”  Saadia answered, “I thought you were Aela; in the dark…I just… saw you wrong.”  She lied.  So Ria had nothing to do with the clothes.  She understood that Vilkas was not the kind of man to take credit for the good things he did.  She would not mention it again. 

“I don’t mind being mistaken for her!”  Ria said. 

Saadia nodded and headed to Farkas’s room; there was no point going home because in a few hours the Circle were having an emergency meeting.  And she had a lot to think about.  And a plan to come up with.

 

***

 

“Are you out of your mind?”  Skjor roared.

“What are you talking about, he has no mind!”  Aela answered, her arms crossed angrily.

“He had no choice!”  Vilkas responded with equal force.

“Alright.”  Kodlak said softly.

Saadia turned her eyes to Farkas.  He was looking down, silently accepting all they said.

“What were you thinking Farkas?”  Skjor continued.

“You know he doesn’t think.  He just acts.”  Aela said sourly. 

“He was surrounded by 30 Silver-” Vilkas tried.

“You know what happened the last time one of us told their lovers the truth!”  Aela spat angrily, “what do you think will happen this time?”

“I’m not just someone’s lover.”  Saadia said and they all turned to look at her.  “I’m also a member of the Circle.”

“What’s done is done.”  Kodlak said, “As I have been reminded recently,” He said with a small smile, “We’re well past this now.”

“Except she might just be a Silver-Hand spy.”  Aela countered, eyeing Saadia closely.

“Who killed every Silver-Hand in that cairn with Farkas?”  Vilkas noted.

“Now look who’s not thinking.”  Saadia said to Aela and she sat down angrily, glaring at Farkas.

“You still shouldn’t have done it.”  She said, accepting that Saadia was probably no threat to them.

“Are you suggesting he let himself be killed?”  Vilkas asked.

“He couldn’t do it where she couldn’t see it; knock her out or something?”  Aela complained.

“I’ve gone over it with him a dozen times,” Vilkas said, “There was no other option.” 

“And now an outsider knows.”  Skjor turned his eyes to Saadia.

“Except I’m not an outsider.  I’m a member of the Circle.”  Saadia repeated.

“Uninitiated member…”  Skjor noted, “Which still makes you an outsider.”

“An outsider that has a plan for the Silver-Hand.”  Vilkas said softly.  “Which is better than we’ve had.”

“Kill them on sight has always been a good plan.”  Aela answered stiffly. 

“Look, they’re clearly not fighting a ‘kill on sight’ kind of war.”  Saadia said, “They’ve got tactics, they’re setting traps.”  She said.

“Scheming.”  Skjor shook his head and Saadia was reminded how much Nords hated schemers. 

“Yes.”  Saadia answered, choosing her next words carefully, “So we need to have a plan.”

“A plot… a scheme.”  Skjor said unimpressed.

“A plan.”  Saadia countered, “Even Ysgramor had a plan when he returned with the 500 Companions to avenge the Night of Tears.”  She said.

“That he did.”  Kodlak said, clearly impressed with Saadia’s words.  Vilkas had told her to say that when she had told him she had a plan but she wasn’t sure if they’d all like it.  She didn’t even know what the Night of Tears was…

“Plans are not the same as schemes.”  Vilkas backed Saadia, even though he didn’t know her plan.  Skjor crossed his arms and stared at them.

“Let’s hear it then.”  Skjor said, unimpressed. 

“You already know a traitor.”  Saadia said meaningfully.  “That you can use that to your advantage.”

“None of our shield-siblings.”  Aela retorted and Saadia shook her head. 

“A known traitor.”  Saadia emphasised.

“Caiche.”  Vilkas said, understanding her plan, his stomach lurching, “Brandlar’s lover.”  He’d known she had a plan, she’d spoken to him about it; but not in detail.

There was a moment of silence while every caught up with just what Saadia was implying. 

“You’re suggesting we find her?”  Skjor said, “And what, torture her for information?”

“And why not – you’ve seen what her kind do to our kind!”  Aela answered.

“I will not support torture.”  Kodlak said firmly.

“We don’t need to torture her.”  Saadia said with a grin, “We just have to tell her we’ll turn her.” 

Another moment of silence before Vilkas suddenly laughed.

“She’s right.”  Vilkas said, “The Silver-Hand are terrified of being turned.  If we tell her that-”

“She’ll tell us everything.”  Aela said, suddenly excited.  “Their camp locations, where the shards of Wuuthrad are…”

“Vilkas I think this whelp’s going to give you a run for your money boy.”  Skjor said, “smarts of Ysgramor right here.”  He gave her an appreciative nod.

“But what do we do with her after we’ve gotten all the information out of her?”  Farkas asked.

“Keep her around until we know we’ve got everything.”  Aela said.

“I personally vote for a quick and painless death.”  Saadia said, “I don’t want to lower myself to be on their level.”  Kodlak noted the way she held her head high; the disgust she felt for the actions of the Silver-Hand, “I don’t believe we should cage her for a long time, nor torture her.” 

“She’s got a kid hasn’t she?”  Farkas asked. 

Another silence.

“We can’t involve a child in this.” Aela said simply. 

“Perhaps we can release her and tell her to take her child and leave Skyrim.”  Kodlak said.

“Then we run the risk of her telling the Silver-Hand what we know.”  Skjor countered.

“Does she have any family that can take care of the child?”  Saadia asked.

“Her sister cared for him when she was in Whiterun.”  Vilkas answered.

“So perhaps she can do that more permanently.”  Saadia said, “And the Companions commit to financial help for the child until they are of age.” 

“That would be best.”  Aela backed Saadia and Kodlak shifted uncomfortably.

“And we have to assume she’s moved the kid and the sister to a location we don’t know about.”  Skjor noted. 

“Caiche… that’s a Breton name isn’t it?”  Saadia asked and they all nodded.  “We have our own sleazy little Breton here that’d sell you his own mother for the right amount of coin… I’m sure he’s got connections, could look into it for us.” 

“Belethor also has a mouth on him.”  Skjor said.

“Not if I’m the one who speaks to him about it.”  Aela said.

“He’s terrified of Aela.”  Vilkas agreed. 

“And turned on by her.”  Skjor added coldly. 

“So we have a plan?”  Farkas asked.

“We get Belethor to find out Caiche’s location, and the location of her son and sister, we get Caiche, we threaten to turn her, her son, her sister… we get information, we give her a quick death, we make sure son and sister are safe and supported.”  Saadia said. 

“I like it.”  Aela nodded.

“We cannot do this in the spirit of vengeance.”  Kodlak said, “It must be done to honour our fallen Companions, and to retrieve the shards of Wuuthrad.”  He looked at each of them, “We must act with honour.  We must ask ourselves why we are doing this.” 

“We have to protect the whelps from this.”  Vilkas answered.  “They’ll kill them just for associating with us, not caring that they don’t know our secret.” 

“Nurie was my closest friend.”  Aela said, “So perhaps there is some vengeance in my motives.  But I believe vengeance can be honourable.” 

“I brought Brandlar into the Circle.”  Skjor said, “when vengeance is tempered with reason and justice, it is honourable, Harbinger.”  Skjor replied. 

“I stand with my shield-siblings.”  Was all Farkas said. 

Kodlak turned his eyes to Saadia.  She looked down.

“My motives?”  She asked, looking at the table.  They were sitting in Kodlak’s sitting room; the room she had first met Kodlak in, the doors closed to everyone who wasn’t a member of the Circle.  “When I saw the dead body of a werewolf the Silver-Hand had tortured… I couldn’t stop thinking… what if that was one of them?  One of you…”  Saadia looked up at them, “I would protect you all.” 

“We don’t need protection.”  Skjor answered.  “But thanks…”

“They tortured and killed a werewolf.”  Saadia said simply.  “With all respect to all of you, you’re all fine warriors… but you do.  You do need protection.  They know how to get to you.  They know who you are.  They know how to identify you.  They know how to kill you.  Your strength and whatever boons you are given by this gift or curse… it will not stop them.  They will come for you.  And they will keep coming.  Unless we stop them.”

Saadia could feel all their eyes on her in the silence that followed, she looked at the table again. 

“Then we will stop them.”  Farkas said simply in an attempt to comfort Saadia.  She was obviously scared for them. 

“I leave the decision in your hands.”  Kodlak said simply when they turned their eyes to him again. 

They all looked around at each other. 

“I’m in.”  Aela said.

“Me too.”  Skjor said, looking to the brothers.

Vilkas looked from Kodlak to Farkas and shook his head.

“It’s brutal… but I’m in.” 

“So it’s decided.”  Skjor said.

“You didn’t ask Farkas.”  Saadia said.  “And I want us all in.” 

“Vilkas said yes and it was your idea; we already know what Farkas is going to say twice over.”  Skjor replied.  Saadia turned to Farkas and he nodded.

“I do as I’m told.”  He said firmly. 

“And Kodlak?”  She turned to the old man, wanting his approval.

“If there is no torture,” He said, “and no vengeance… I say we make the attempt.”  He said finally, “They pose a threat to all of the Companions, not just the initiated.”  He said.  “And we must deal with our enemies.” 

“Well we all know what we’re doing now.”  Skjor said, “Aela will begin the plan.” 

Aela nodded.

“Any other business?”  Kodlak asked. 

“Actually,” Saadia said, “I need to go home and see my daughter.  So I’ll leave you initiated members to talk without me here.”  She got up and put a hand on Farkas’s shoulder, “I’ll be back tomorrow.”  She said, letting him know not to visit her tonight.  He nodded in response and they waited for her to leave. 

“Some plan.”  Skjor breathed. 

“We have to watch her.”  Vilkas said, Aela nodding.

“Why would you say that?”  Farkas asked.

“When it comes to those she cares about; she has a darkness in her… she would tear down the sun itself to protect them, and to Oblivion with anyone else.”  Vilkas answered.

“I’ve never seen someone so calmly and easily lay down a plan that could so easily lead to the death of hundreds, if not thousands of people.”  Aela agreed. 

“I don’t see it that way.”  Farkas replied.

“How do you think it’s going to go ice-brain?”  Aela asked.  “We get Caiche, we find out where all their camps are, and we what?  Do nothing?”

“No, we wipe them all out.”  Skjor said, “That’s the underlying possibility.”

“We will not go that far.”  Kodlak said, “Not for any reason.”

“Of course not.”  Vilkas said, “I only mention it as a possibility because… she needs to get a hold of that tendency in her.  I know because… because I have the same tendency.”

“We know.”  Aela said, rolling her eyes, “The way you go to war with anyone who messes with Farkas.” 

“It needs controlling.”  Vilkas reiterated, “She needs to learn to pick her battles.”

“And she did.”  Farkas said, “this one.  She picked this battle.”

“I watched you learn that Vilkas.”  Kodlak said, remembering the fights Vilkas used to get into with Aela over her insistence of calling Farkas ‘ice-brain’ and other similar names.  He had stopped that battle only when he finally saw that Farkas genuinely didn’t care, “I believe she’s less in danger from her darkness than you think.”  

“You probably see clearer than I do.”  Vilkas conceded.

“She’s got one giant set of ovaries.”  Skjor said, “Telling a pack of werewolves they need protecting, then implying she was the one to do it.” 

“And why not?”  Farkas asked, “She’s killed Dragons.  By herself, with no help.”  He said and Aela raised an eyebrow in appreciation of that.  “I’ve seen her Shout.”  He added.  “I don’t think we need protecting, but if we did – why not her?” 

“I think we forget that she is Dovahkiin, and a skilled fighter, trained from her youth, because we’ve only known her for a short time.”  Vilkas noted.  “I would dearly love to see her Shout!”  He said and Aela nodded her agreement.

“Yes she’s a mighty warrior, chosen by the Gods.”  Skjor waved all of that off, “Even so, I admire her gall.”  Skjor laughed, “To walk into a room of werewolves and tell them she knew what they were.  With no fear of what we’d do…”  He shook his head in admiration.

“I’d never let anything happen to her.” Farkas answered.  “She knows that.” 

“Even so, the 2 of you couldn’t take us all on.”  Skjor countered. 

“Three.” Aela noted; “the brothers always stand together.”  There was an uncomfortable moment, “I do hope she will not be the thing that breaks apart our family.” 

“She’s unified us all on a single objective and given us a plan.”  Kodlak noted, “When was the last time that happened?”   
They all looked around at each other and Vilkas started to laugh.

“She’s good.”  Vilkas said, still laughing. 

“What do you mean?”  Farkas asked.

“Giving us this time to talk.”  Vilkas said, “She knew what kind of things we’d end up saying, and that we’d end up here.  More unified than ever.”

“She is good.”  Aela nodded.  She started to laugh too, shaking her head.  “It’s such a good plan, I don’t care if she nudged us a little.”  She said.  “I’ll go see Belethor immediately.”

“I have a job.”  Skjor said, deep in thought about Saadia. 

“We all do.”  Vilkas agreed, getting up.  “Let’s hope Aela gets quick results.” 

 

 

 


	10. Part 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I've got a super shitty weekend coming up, so I'm gonna put up 2 chapters today to make me feel better!!

 

Saadia had listened to every Battle-Born she could find, drone on about how good the Empire was for business, how backwards the Gray-Manes were, how they were poor and jealous of the Battle-Borns wealth, how they were a venerable family… hours of listening to them for them all to simply tell her that Thorald got what was coming to him for taking up with the Stormcloaks.  They all expressed remorse that it had hurt the Grey-Manes, but they all said there was nothing to be done about it – and to drop it or people might get the wrong idea about her.

Saadia had heard that Jon, the young man that had asked her to have a drink with him, was a Battle-Born. 

So she had organised to have a whole meal with him at the inn.  He was really her last chance of doing this without having to break into the Battle-Born house. 

They sat down to a hearty casserole and ale, Jon smiling happily as he drank.

“What brought you to Whiterun?”  He asked her.  Saadia decided not to tell him her real reasons.

“I came here to help.”  She answered, “In any way I can.”

“Truly?  Ha!  By Shor, this city could use more like you.”  He said, “The rumours about you must be true; that you’ve been helping the townsfolk… that you… are blessed by the Gods?”  He asked cautiously.  Saadia didn’t get the feeling that this attractive man was actually attracted to her.  He seemed to genuinely just want to get to know a newcomer to Whiterun.  That might be a problem; she had been hoping to use any attraction he had to her, to help get the information out of him.

“Oh I never put much stock in rumours.”  Saadia answered, noticing Olfina, the barmaid, staring at them with hostile eyes, and a sorrowful frown.  “I was thinking of going to Hammerfell, but I’m so glad I decided to come to Skyrim instead.”  She added.

“What do you think of Skyrim.”

“It’s my home.”  She said, “I’m half Nord, so I love it here.” 

“You know what's wrong with Skyrim these days?”  He asked, and Saadia could have thought of a dozen things to answer; civil war, Dragons, bandits on the roads… “Everyone is obsessed with death.”  He answered his own question and Saadia dropped her head to the side.  “People have forgotten humour, poetry and romance.”  He lamented, “I love a good sword fight as much as the next man, but there's more to life.”

“I agree.”  Saadia said as Mikael, the bard, struck up a tune. 

“Poncy little milk-drinker that one.”  Jon grumbled, watching Mikael through narrowed eyes. 

“Not that I disagree, but why do you think that?”  Saadia was trying to build up a connection with this man, so she could persuade him to tell her about Thorald Grey-Mane; and any connection would do. 

“Man gives bards a bad name.”  Jon said.  “We Nords have a long history as warrior poets.  I am proud to count myself among them.  But Mikael... He sings only for gold and the affections of wenches and women.  He dishonours our traditions.”

“You sound like you’re a poet at heart.”  Saadia noted, “A bard…?”  Jon nodded. 

“It's my desire to enter the Bards College.  My parents are hesitant, but I pray they let me attend.”  He said and motioned the barmaid to get him another drink.  It was Saadia who came to serve.  Saadia watched the barmaid that shared her name and again thought of the Alik’r looking for a Redguard woman.  “Hulda always keeps us swimming in mead!”  Jon said happily, “Which is one of the most important things.” 

“I’m sure your family will let you go, if you insist.  There’s nothing keeping you in Skyrim is there?”  She asked, again noting Olfina’s dirty looks. 

“Other than I’ve lived here my whole life?”  He asked, but then he looked down at his food and shrugged.  “Perhaps.”  Was all he said, so Saadia tried to prompt him to talk again.

“How long has your family lived here?”  She asked.

“We Battle-Borns have been here since the beginning.  Along with the Gray-Manes.”  His eyes went to Olfina and Saadia realised that Olfina was a Gray-Mane.  She was Eorlund’s daughter.  “Our families have been as close as kin for generations.”  Jon said softly, looking back down at his plate.  “But Ulfric Stormcloak's uprising has divided us.  Now seems we can scarce look at each other without coming to blows.”  He stabbed at his food moodily, “Petty and foolish, that.  They're saying Dragons have returned to Skyrim.  Now that there, that's a real problem.”  He looked back up at her.  “Is the rumour true?  Have Dragons returned?”

“Dragons have returned.”  Saadia answered and he sighed heavily. 

“All I want it is to escape from this madness.  And if Olfina can come with me, all the better.”  And then he seemed to remember himself, his eyes widening and then he stammered, “But I've probably said too much."

“Olfina?”  Saadia grasped hold of that.  “She’s a Gray-Mane isn’t she?” 

“That’s right.”  Jon said tight-lipped. 

“You two are lovers?”  Saadia asked, but she already knew the answer. 

“I would never dishonour my family like tha-”

“Come on Jon; we’re friends, you can tell me the truth.”  Saadia said firmly. 

“She is the sun.”  He whispered.  “My sun.”  He looked down at his food, love mixed with sorrow in his eyes.  “And we can never be.” 

“What’s stopping you?”  Saadia asked.

“It would be too difficult, with our families.” 

“Why not leave together.  The Bard’s college is in Solitude?”

“Aye but it’s expensive to get there and to live there.”  Jon answered.

“Very few things in this life that are worth doing are easy, Jon.”  She said, “Most things are hard.  But if she is your sun… Nothing can survive without the sun.”  He looked up at her again. 

“My father has forbidden me from doing manual labour.  So I have no means of earning an income.”  He said and Saadia raised an eyebrow at that, “I think perhaps it is time I disobey him, and earn some money of my own.  So that Olfina and I can leave Whiterun one day.  And be together.” 

“That sounds like a good plan.”  She said.  “Can you do me a favour friend?”

“Anything.”  Jon said, “You have helped me so much in this one conversation!”  He said, amused. 

“Tell me what happened to Thorald Gray-Mane.”  Saadia asked. 

“The Thalmor have him.”  Jon said honestly, “I do not know where.  But I know my father has written countless letters on his behalf.  He says, the Gray-Manes may be fools for supporting the Stormcloaks, but no one deserves to fall into the hands of the Thalmor.” 

“Can you guess where they might have him?”

“Perhaps at their embassy?  I don’t know.”  He said.  “My father may have something about it in his study.  He handed Saadia a key.  “To our house.”  He said.  “I will not go in with you, if my father caught us…”

“I understand.”  Saadia said.  “Look, if there’s anything I can do for you and Olfina, you let me know, ok?” 

“Thank you friend.”  He said, “I think we have to do this ourselves.  But if I do need your help…”

“Let me know.” 

Saadia got up and sighed to herself.  Even when she’d gotten some information, she’d still have to break into their home. 

“Keep a song in your heart, and a blade in your boot.”  He said as a means of farewelling her.

“Goodbye Jon.”  Saadia said.

She headed straight to Jorrvaskr.  Farkas was drinking and eating dinner with the rest of the Companions and she sat down next to him in one of the spare chairs at the table for the Circle. 

“I thought you had a tryst tonight?”  He teased, “With a handsome man who wants to be a bard?” 

“We’re done already.”  Saadia answered, grabbing a second dinner.  She always ate as much free food as she could. 

“He didn’t last long.”  Farkas teased, “You must be disappointed.”

“Well I partially got what I wanted.”  She went along with it and he laughed.  “But I might have to do something illegal to really get what I want.”  She gave him a seductive look and ran her hand up his thigh.

“Sounds exciting.”  He said, all the teasing out of his voice.  “What illegal thing?”  Saadia sighed; Farkas was all seriousness now.

“I’m going to have to break into the Battle-Born house.”  She told him.

“You can’t.”  He re-iterated what he had already said to her about this. 

“Jon said that he knows that the Thalmor have Thorald, but he doesn’t know where they’re holding him; apparently his father might now.” 

“The Thalmor?”  Farkas said, obviously understanding how bad that was, “Even so-”

Vilkas leaned past Farkas and spoke directly to Saadia.

“Normally we wouldn’t accept this kind of behaviour in our town because we are sworn to protect all those that live here.”  Vilkas said, “But in this instance I think you have to.”  Farkas made a small noise of uncertainty and when Saadia looked at him he shrugged.

“Do what you think is right.”  He answered her questioning face.

Saadia sighed deeply. 

 

***

 

Saadia had watched and waited until everyone had left for the day, to their various jobs.  Then she had used Jon’s key to slip in.

What Jon had not told her, was that his father’s study was a locked room off the main bedroom. 

A tricky lock, a racing heart, and several lockpicks later, Saadia got into the room and found a letter from General Tullius on the desk.  It said that all enquiries into Thorald’s whereabouts must immediately stop because the Thalmor had him at the Northwatch Keep.  There was an undeniable tone of fear in the letter; even the General feared the Thalmor, even if he didn’t agree with what was being done, he advised everyone to drop the matter.  That was why the Battle-Borns had been telling the Gray-Manes that their son was dead.  To protect everyone.

Saadia left the letter where it was; no point alerting anyone to her presence in the house. 

She snuck out and went to find Fraila in the market place.

On the way Aela caught up with her.

“Belethor got us something.”  She said in a low voice.

“I’ll be a few minutes.”  Saadia answered and continued on to the marketplace.  Fraila wasn’t at her stall so she headed towards the Gray-Mane house. 

Avulstein was sitting inside, tending the fire.  He looked up when she came in.

“Just letting yourself in now?”  He asked, his eyes narrowed.  He was a big burly man, much like his father, with white blonde hair, dark blue eyes, a strong jawline, and a big muscled body.

“Well I figured that since I’d just broken into someone else’s home for you, I’d be welcome.”  Saadia said and sat on their table. 

“Do you have news?”  He said, standing up quickly.  “Did you find something?”

“Thorald is alive,” Saadia said and saw Avulstein’s face break out into a huge, victorious smile.

“I knew it!”  He said.

“Don’t celebrate too soon.”  Saadia warned, “The Thalmor have him.” 

“The Thalmor…” His face fell, his voice showing the fear all Nords had of the Thalmor.  “By the 9 it’s worse than I thought.”  He sat back down, his shoulders slumping.

“They’re holding him at the Northwatch Keep.”  Saadia told him.  He looked up at her, slowly nodding his head; his courage and confidence returning.

“So we know where to hit them.”  He answered, a fire in his eyes.  Saadia didn’t know much about the Thalmor, just that Nords seemed to be scared of them.  She wondered if that fear was warranted, and if it was, she didn’t know what Avulstein thought he was going to accomplish by hitting one of their keeps.  Other than his own death of course.

“You’re going to assault Northwatch Keep?”  Saadia tried to keep the tone of scepticism form her voice, but failed.  Avulstein squared his jaw.

“I’ll do anything if it means saving my brother.” 

“Alright…” Saadia wondered if she could talk him out of it.

“I’ll get together some fighters… You’ll join us won’t you?”  He asked, “Thorald can’t be left to those monsters.”  He said convincingly. 

“Let me see if I can bring him back on my own.  Without bloodshed.”  Saadia was thinking mostly of Avulstein’s blood being shed if he went off half-cocked like this. 

“What?”  He nearly scoffed, “You alone reasoning with the Thalmor?”  He shook his head, softly chuckling, “That’s madness friend.”  He dismissed it.  Saadia squared her jaw and looked him in the eye.  “You’re serious aren’t you?”  He said in awe, “Very well, I’ll give you a chance to do it your way.  But if you can’t do it I will.”

“Alright, just give me a little bit of time.”  Saadia said and he nodded.

“But not too long.  They’ll be torturing him.”

“Understood.”  Saadia said.

“Thank you,” Avulstein stood up again and held out his hand.  She took his forearm and he took hers; shaking hands as warriors on equal footing did, “For all you’ve done for my family.”

“I’ll expect another thank you when I’ve freed Thorald.”  She said, meaning to imply that she expected no other reward for her help.

“And you’ll get it.”  He answered with more than a hint of suggestion.  Saadia cocked an eyebrow at him and nodded, indicating that she understood his implication. 

When she got back to Jorrvaskr, Ria said that the Circle were waiting for her down in Kodlak’s sitting room. 

“Good, you’re here.”  Aela said when Saadia opened the door.  “Belethor found out that Caiche has moved her sister and son to Falkreath.  She drops off supplies to them weekly, on Fredas”

“I’m heading that way soon.”  Saadia said, “I can pay her a visit?”

“You’ll need this to really scare her.”  Vilkas said, handing her the wolf insignia.  “Eorlund made it for you.” 

“I’m not qualified to wear this am I?”  She joked. 

“And you never will be.”  Vilkas said firmly.  “But you’ll have to wear it for her to believe you.” 

“Alright.”  Saadia said.

“It’ll make you a target for the Silver-Hand.”  Farkas said, but Saadia shrugged and affixed the insignia to her armour. 

“Let them try and take me down.” 

 

***

 

“GET YOUR HANDS OFF ME!”

“We’re looking for a Redguard woman,” The man explained, gripping the woman’s wrist tightly, “She has a birthmark on her left breast.”  He grabbed at her dress.

Saadia was running, on her way to Falkreath, to a small cottage just on the outskirts of the city; so Belethor had said. 

“What’s going on?”  She said as she approached the 3 Alik’r men, surrounding a Redguard woman.  Saadia saw the woman pulling her dress back up, her breasts partially exposed, a look of outrage on her face. 

“Are you going to try searching me?”  Saadia said, squaring up to the men, standing in between them and the Redguard woman as she tried to right her clothes. 

“The woman is not a warrior, and does not have a warrior’s physique.”  The Alik’r man said, “Nor does she have… malformed eyes.”  He said looking at her mismatched eyes.  “There’s no need to search you.”

“Unless she’s changed her appearance with magic…” One of the other men said to him. 

“Then I’m sure I’d have removed the birthmark too.”  Saadia answered, “But please, do try to search me.”  She dared them.  They looked her up and down.

“That won’t be necessary.”  He said stiffly, “We’re paying goo-”

“Coin for information about this Redguard woman.  I know.”  Saadia said, “I was told you’d all be waiting in Rorikstead.”

“We’re searching the roads as well.”  He answered.

“If I hear of any more Redguard women being assaulted by your people on the roads, I’ll personally kill every last one of you.”  Saadia said and he scoffed.

Saadia withdrew her sword and slammed it through his belly in one smooth move.

She pulled her sword out and he fell to the floor gasping, in immense pain.

She looked at the other two men, her expression daring them to do something. 

They stared at her shocked. 

“That’s a long painful death friend.”  Saadia said to the man groaning in pain on the floor.  She held up a healing potion and he feebly reached for it.  She stepped on his hand and looked down at him and then back up at the other men.  “Now tell me there’ll be no more of this.”  She said.

“No more.”  The third man declared.  “We swear.”

“Yes.”  The second man agreed.

“Good.”  Saadia said and dropped the healing potion to the ground.  She stepped away and looked back to the Redguard woman.  “Are you alright?”

“Yes… I was just on my way to Whiterun to find work.  Falkreath is dead.”

“The Drunken Huntsman is looking for a barmaid.”  Saadia told her.

“Thank you.”  She said.

“You’ve only got about half an hour to go before you get to the farms, there’s guards on the road from there, you’ll be safe.”

“Thank you.”  The woman said again and headed on her way.  Saadia turned back to the Alik’r, the stabbed man was drinking the potion, the other 2 men leaning over him. 

“I’m glad neither of you thought to try and stab me in the back.”  Saadia said, “It’s too nice a day to begin it with a mini massacre.”  She said, “Now run along to Rorikstead, I’ll be seeing you there soon.”  She said. 

She continued on her way, not looking back once.

She saw the thatched roofs of Falkreath in the distance as she neared the makeshift cottage in the woods just outside of the city. 

Saadia sat down in amongst the bushes, staying as still and silent as the earth itself and watched the cottage.

She saw an elderly woman come out and put some blankets over a rope that had been hung up between the cottage and a tree.  The little boy, about 5 years old ran around her as she worked.  Sometime later another woman appeared, coming from Falkreath with a single bag of supplies.

Saadia listened to the elderly woman worrying about food and coin to the younger woman; both of them agreeing that they’d need to ask Caiche for more help.  The younger woman complained that if Caiche would just let her get a job working the mines, they’d be alright… but Caiche had them in hiding out here; they didn’t know why. 

She watched the cottage all day and into the night.  Not moving, not sleeping, eating or drinking. 

She waited.

Dawn broke on the day of Fredas, and Saadia was waiting. 

Caiche came just after dawn.  Saadia watched her go into the cottage, heard the excitement of the family within, especially the little boy; her son. 

Saadia was waiting on the road, in sight of the cottage, when Caiche came out, 2 hours later.  She didn’t see Saadia, turning to go the opposite way down the road.

“Caiche.”  Saadia said and the woman turned to look at her.  “It’s funny how you thought your family would be safe here; practically in sight of our home.”  Saadia watched as the woman’s face went from questioning to horror when her eyes dropped to the wolf insignia on Saadia’s armour.  Caiche took a moment to take a breath and square her shoulder before walking over to Saadia.  She knew she had no other choice. 

“I see they initiated someone new.”  Caiche said bitterly and Saadia smiled sweetly.  “The old man must be dead.”  She said, “We hadn’t had reports of it… but there’s no way he’d let you come here and threaten my family.” 

“You knew…”  Saadia realised, “You knew that the Circle were no threat, but still you hunt them down.”

“The Oblivion Crisis taught us enough to learn that the Daedra are wholly evil and their influence on Skyrim, on Tamriel, must be completely severed.”  Caiche said with feverish insistence, “They are cursed by Hircine.  It does not matter if they have the curse under control; they are cursed by a Daedra, they must all die.  And we will kill you all.  No matter what you do today.”  Caiche said bravely, “You can torture me all you want werewolf, it will not change your fate.” 

“You’re right about Kodlak, he’s not into the whole abduct and torture thing… so we all agreed to turn you instead.”  Saadia said and was gifted with a look of unadulterated horror on Caiche’s face, “And I’m feeling generous, so I might give Hircine’s gift to your grandmother, your sister, and definitely your little boy.” 

“You can’t do that…”  Caiche whispered fearfully.

“Yes I can.”  Saadia answered, “And I will.”

“Please don’t!”  Caiche begged. 

“See, the kids are the best to turn.  The younger they are, the easier they are to indoctrinate into the ways of Hircine.”  Saadia continued, not knowing if she was saying anything that was even close to the truth, “Keep your back straight Caiche, if your son looks out the window, we don’t want him to see his mother pleading or weeping, then he might alert your family to something happening out here… then we don’t know what I’d do, do we?”

“What do you want?”  Caiche said through a clenched jaw.

“You’re going to come with me.  Peacefully.  And then you’re going to tell the Circle, everything they want to know.”  Saadia said simply, “Or you’re going to find out what your son looks like as a werewolf.  Let me tell you, child werewolves are adorable!”  She said with another sweet grin.  “And I’ve been wanting to adopt another child.”

“Another… you’ve done this to a child already?”  Caiche said in horror.  Saadia kept smiling, not answering her question.

“Are you going to give me any trouble?”

“No.”  Caiche answered, “I’ll come with you.”

Caiche gave her no problems and they travelled quickly, in complete silence. 

When they got to Whiterun, the guard that opened the gate gave Saadia a nod.

“You’ve been seen with the Companions.”  The guard said to her, “That’s an honourable path you’re on.” 

“Thank you.”  Saadia said to him, motioning for Caiche to follow her.

“Whiterun.”  Caiche said shaking her head, “They all follow their false Gods here.”  She spat the words softly, “They worship the Companions… if they only knew of the corruption-”

“Gods, you are dramatic aren’t you?”  Saadia noted. 

“I’m honest.  I speak the truth.”  She said, “These people have no idea what you are.  They’d never accept it if they did know.”

“Lucky for them they don’t know.”  Saadia answered.

“The only reason the Silver-Hand hasn’t told them is because we know you’d kill all these innocents if we did.”  Caiche said with a soft, but angry tone. 

She pushed Caiche ahead of her and followed her through the streets of Whiterun, up to Jorrvaskr. 

As soon as they were inside Caiche started up again

“The poor whelps.  They have no idea what you are.”  She repeated, “Must be hard keeping that secret.”

“Not really.”

“I could scream out what you really are, and then all of your whelps would know the truth about their precious Circle.”

“You could.”  Saadia shrugged, “They wouldn’t believe you; traitor.”  She said simply, “But let’s just say they do believe you.  I’d just turn and kill them all in a matter of minutes, whether they try to fight or flee; I’d kill them all with ease.  And you know that.”  Saadia said in a low voice, “And while I don't wanna kill all the whelps, I would do it to protect the Circle, and I would tell the townsfolk it was you; a known traitor to the Companions, come back to harm us more.  Then we’d get an uplifting of sympathy from the city, new whelps, and everyone would hate the Silver-Hand even more.  And then of course I'll be paying a visit to your son.  So what will that accomplish?” 

Caiche silently followed her through the hall.

“Caiche?”  Njada said, “What are you doing back here?”  The whelps all knew of her treachery; that she had killed 2 Circle members.

“Kodlak wants to get to the bottom of what happened.”  Saadia answered.

“And then kill her I hope.”  Njada said, eyeing Caiche with hostility.

“Oh you know the old man, he’ll probably let her go.”  Athis said.

“Who is it?”  Ria asked.  She was the newest whelp, and like Saadia, she had never met the 2 dead Circle members, or Caiche. 

“Caiche.  The one who killed-” Athis began. 

“Brandlar and Nurie.”  Torvar said softly. 

“Oh I heard about that…”  Ria breathed. 

“I liked Nurie.”  Athis said, “She was the one who encouraged me to join even though I’m an Elf… told me I had the heart of a Nord and that’s all mattered.”

“Damn fool of a woman.”  Njada said sadly, “I loved her so much.”

“Brandlar had me on the straight and narrow.”  Torvar said, looking down at the bottle of mead in his hand.  He put it down and sat down in silent thought.

“I loved him too.”  Njada said sadly.  “I hope they hang this bitch up by her toes.” 

Saadia led Caiche passed them without another word, all of them glaring at Caiche.  But Caiche held her head high.

Kodlak put his book on the table and looked up at Caiche as they approached.

“I had hoped to never see you again.”  He said to her, “But now when I do… I know we did the right thing following Saadia’s plan.”  He said.  He called for Aela.  “Take her to the Underforge.”

“No you can’t turn me.”  Caiche cried.  She looked at Saadia, “You said if I co-operated-”

But Aela backhanded her.

“Shut your filthy mouth, traitor!”  Aela spat.  She dragged Caiche by the hair from Kodlak’s room, the woman crying and pleading.

“So I take it that the Underforge is… where it happens.”

“Yes.”  Kodlak said softly, “And now another kind of monstrosity will happen down there.”  He said, “The killing of an unarmed woman.”

“You know-”

“That it is necessary.”  Kodlak nodded slowly, “But it does not change that good people should always pause before killing someone that cannot defend themselves.”  He told her.  “This kind of death cannot be delivered lightly.” 

“I understand.”  Saadia said, “Then I think it should be me to do it.”  Kodlak raised an eyebrow in question.  “It was my plan.  I don’t want to bring you all down; I know how you all have your stubborn Nord pride and honour.” 

“It takes a certain type of person to kill an unarmed person.”  Kodlak said softly.

“A bad person.”

“Not always.”  Kodlak answered, “But a person who can harden their heart.”  He said, “Whether that’s done through belief, faith, knowledge or evil…”

 

***

 

While Saadia waited for Aela and Skjor to get all the information out of Caiche, she decided it was time to figure out this Redguard woman and Alik’r issue. 

She went into the Bannered Mare and Hulda called out a welcome to her as always. 

She saw Olfina, a broom in her hand, over in the corner, Jon standing near her.  She could just hear their conversation.

“So I’m… uh… I’m writing a song for you.”  He said softly. 

“Why Jon Battle-Born.”  Her hand went to his chest, “You're writing me a song?  Does it somehow involve blood, or beheadings, or the honour of my forebears?”  She teased and he smiled lovingly at her.  But she remembered herself and dropped her hand from his chest looking around quickly to be sure no one had seen them.  But Jon caught her hand and stroked it with his thumb.

“Well, that's where I started.”  He admitted, “But it turned into something of a ballad.”

“A ballad?”  She asked coyly, “Oh, now I know you're joking with me.”  
“It's all true, I swear it.”  He told her, “You can hear it when it's done.  I'll just need a year or two smooth the rough edges.”  He fretted.  
“Ha!”  She laughed and he laughed with her, “I thought as much.”  She grinned up at him lovingly, “Oh Jon, have you spoken to that man from the Bards College yet?”  
“No, not yet.”  He admitted, “But I will.  I just haven't... gotten around to it yet.”  
“Oh Jon, stop dallying.”  Her hand went to his chest again.  “You know you have to go.  It's why Mara put you on this earth.”

“It’s in Solitude, and-”

“You think a few miles can truly keep us apart?”  She asked knowingly.  
“You mean you won't forget about me the moment I'm out of sight?”  He teased, “Get yourself a nice old rich husband, have sixteen babies?”  Olfina’s eyes twinkled with amusement and she tutted.  
“Tsk.  You've uncovered my master plan.”  She teased him back, “Now I suppose you'll never leave.”  Jon gently pulled on one of her lose curls that had come free from her braid.  
“Harlot.”  He said achingly, his eyes on hers.  She laughed, but his eyes dropped to her lips. 

“Yes, that’s me.  A harlot that beds just one.”  She said and he stroked her face gently. 

“I want you to come with me.”  He said longingly.

“You know I can’t; my mother needs me.”  She said sadly, “Maybe when this thing with Thorald is over she’ll be less needy… but…”  And then what he’d said to her really sunk in.  “You want me to go with you – to Solitude?”

“I do.”  He said, “I’ve gotten a job at the mill.  It’s just chopping wood, but in a few months’ time, I’ll have enough coin to get us both to Solitude.”

“A few months?”

“Hopefully.”  He said and she started to grin.

“Maybe we need to visit the temple of Mara…?”  She said hopefully.

“Maybe we do.”  He agreed. 

“Truly?”  She asked and he nodded.  She seemed overcome with joy and had to take a deep breath; she was clearly unable to wipe the smile from her face though. 

“I want to see you tonight, when you’re done working.” 

“I can’t.  Not tonight.”  She answered, her eyes again scanning the inn for anyone watching them.  “I need to go home; I swear my family is starting to suspect something.” 

“That's your imagination running wild.”  He said soothingly, “Nobody knows how we feel about each other.”

“Don't say that out loud.”  She whispered frantically and looked around again, batting his hand away when he tried to stroke her face again.  “Not here Jon.”

“Olfina…” He practically groaned her name.

“The answer's still no.”  She said firmly, her face serious, but then she broke out into a smile.  “But tomorrow.  Definitely.”  She said.  Jon leaned in closer to her so that their faces were practically touching.

“I’ll sing you a special song then, lass.”  He promised and she smiled lustily, biting her bottom lip. 

“You have to stop now Jon, I’m working.”  She said, but her tone made it very clear she didn’t want him to stop. 

“Bah.  You're always working.”  He said dismissively, “Why else would I spend so much time here?”

“Oh I don’t know, maybe you’re here because there's no better way to face the cold Skyrim nights than with a belly full of ale?”  She teased, and Jon’s hand went to her waist.

“Oh there’s a better way to face the long, cold, dark, lonely nights...” He said, “A buxom barmaid between the sheets will keep me plenty warm.  Better yet, she won't make my head ring the morning after.”

“You know, Mikael is quite the songbird.  Maybe he's the reason you're here all the time.”  She continued teasing.

“Aye, the bard's got some small talent, I'll give him that.”  Jon said stiffly much to Olfina’s amusement, “You just make sure his music is the only thing you're admiring.”

“Oh Jon, darling.”  She whispered, leaning into him, “You know you're the only stone-biting, knuckle-dragging Nord for me.”  
“Ha!”  He laughed, “That's my girl.”

“OLFINA!”  Hulda called.  Olfina jumped and Jon pulled away, suddenly aware of where they were.  Olfina looked around guiltily, “I wanted them floors finished an hour ago!”

“Yes Hulda, I’m sorry.”  She said, a look of fear on her face that they’d been found out. 

“Well get on it girl.”  She said.  “Hope she wasn’t bothering you?”  Hulda asked Jon. 

“No.”  Jon answered, “I just noticed what a thorough job she was doing.”  He added.

“Oh good.”  She nodded her head, “Well let me know if you want anything.”  Hulda said and went back to the bar.

“I’m going to have to help them fools.”  Saadia groaned to herself.

She looked around the inn, searching for the Redguard barmaid, also called Saadia, who had showed up the same day she had…

She was in the kitchen, carefully keeping a spitting roast moist. 

“Welcome to the Bannered Mare.”  She said with a huge smile, “Hey, you’re that newcomer, like me!”  She said happily, “Both from Hammerfell, both came on the same day, both named Saadia!” 

She was a slender woman with short brown hair, dark skin and yellow amber eyes; common among Redguard women. 

“Yes but Saadia actually is my real name…”  Saadia answered and the other woman tipped her head to the side in confusion.

“What?”  She asked with a forced smile.

“Did you know there’s some Alik’r warriors looking for a Redguard woman?”  Saadia asked, watching her closely for her response. 

It was instant: fear.

“Are you sure?”  She asked.

“Yes.”  Saadia told her.

“Oh no!  They’ve found me!”  The woman looked around the tiny kitchen as if there would be some sort of revelation there, and then her eyes fell upon Saadia, “I need your help please.”  She said urgently. “Come with me I need to speak to you privately.”  She turned and headed for the stairs at the back of the kitchen.

Saadia wondered what her game was but decided to follow nonetheless. 

They went up the stairs and the woman led Saadia into her bedroom.

“Close the door.”  She said and as soon as Saadia had she pulled out a dagger and waved it at Saadia menacingly.

“So you are working with them?”  She demanded to know; the fire of fear in her eyes, “If you so much as touch me you’ll lose your fingers.”  Saadia stared at her with an unimpressed expression, “I mean it!”  She waved the dagger at Saadia again, “I’ll cut you in half.”  Saadia took a deep breath and took a step back so the woman would feel less threatened.  She folded her hands in front of her and trained her eyes on the terrified woman.  After a moment of silence, the barmaid realised that Saadia wasn’t going to do anything right now.  “So the Alik’r have found me?”  Saadia heard the tone of despair in the woman’s voice.  “What do you want?  Gold?”  She asked, “How many of them are there?  Tell me!”  She was frantic.

“Put that down, before you get hurt.”  Saadia said in an even tone. 

“I’m sorry.”  The woman was almost in tears.  She dropped the dagger onto the bed and put her hands over her face.  “I’m sorry,” She repeated, “please, just… just don’t hurt me!”  And here were the tears.  “I know you’re not one of them,” She sounded more hopeful than sure of this, “but you just can’t help them.”  She pleaded, “I know you’re not one of them.”  She seemed to be trying to convince herself. 

“I’m not one of them.”  Saadia agreed, to calm her.  She still didn’t know what to make of all of this, but there was no doubting this woman’s fear. 

“Please will you help me?”  She pleaded, “There’s no one here I can trust.”  She whispered, “And the townsfolk said you’ve been helping people…”  She seemed somewhat hopeful.  “Will you help me?”  She pleaded again. 

“Maybe.”  Saadia answered, “What do you want?”

“I am not the person that the people of Whiterun think I am.”  She admitted, “My real name is Iman.”  She said, “The men that are looking for me, the Alik’r; they are working for the Aldmeri Dominion.” 

“The Thalmor.”  Saadia knew that the Aldmeri Dominion was run by the Thalmor. 

“Yes.  And these Alik’r men wish to exchange my blood for gold.” 

“I see.”  Saadia said softly.

“I need you to root them out and drive them away before they drag me back to Hammerfell for an execution.”  The tone of pleading in Iman’s voice was almost tangible. 

“How am I supposed to get rid of them?”  Saadia asked; from what she could tell, people backed by the Aldmeri Dominion didn’t just go away. 

“They’re mercenaries.”  Iman said, “They’re only in it for the money.  They’re led by a man named Kematu.  Get rid of him and the rest will scatter.”

“How do you know their leader’s name?”  Saadia asked.

“He’s been after me since I fled Hammerfell.”  Iman said, “But even before then… he wanted to marry me and I refused.  I know him well.”  Saadia sighed, wondering what she had stepped into the middle of.  “I don’t dare show my face in Whiterun - they’ll find me.”  She seemed genuinely scared. 

“Any suggestions as to how I find Kematu?”  Saadia asked, wondering if the men at Rorikstead would be forthcoming if she stabbed them through the stomach…

“I heard a man from Hammerfell was arrested trying to sneak into the city.  I was hoping he wasn’t Alik’r… but maybe he is?” 

“So you think I can just wonder into the city jail and get the information out of a complete stranger?”  Saadia asked pointedly.

“Please, I know I’m asking a lot from you.  I know it will be difficult… I know it will probably be very dangerous… It’s just… I just don’t know who else to trust.”  Her words ended in a desperate whisper. 

“Why are the Alik’r after you?”  Saadia asked.

“I spoke against the Aldmeri Dominion publicly.  They say my agitating provoked riots that caused deaths…”  She lowered her eyes “I didn’t mean for people to die…”

“Why haven’t you gone to the city guard for help?”

“You think I’d be in hiding if this was something I could trust to the guards?”  She asked, “I don’t like never leaving the inn.”  She said, “But these men are ruthless, well trained, and they will kill me.  I don’t dare trust the people of Whiterun.  Guards and Jarls can be bought.”  She said crossing her arms over her chest and rubbing her arms, trying to comfort herself, “The Alik’r are closing in - I’m running out of time so I’m choosing to trust you.”

“Alright.  I’ll see what I can do.”  Saadia answered.

“Thank you.”  She said breathlessly, “Find me when the Alik’r are taken care of?”

“Yeah.”  Saadia sighed and left the Bannered Mare. 

She had to decide whether to go to the men in Rorikstead and tell them where Iman was, or to help her. 

She headed for Dragonsreach; the dungeon was in the lower levels of the castle.  She’d talk to this man and see if he was Alik’r and if he was, see what he had to say. 

She headed down the stairs to the door to the dungeon. A guard stood there looking bored.  He looked up at her and sighed.

“Let me guess: someone stole your sweet roll?”  He asked.

“No.”  Saadia answered, “As Thane, I wanted to see where the city keeps its criminals.”  She said, not sure if this would work; she’d never used her Thane-ship to get something before. 

“Oh you’re the Thane?”  He asked, “Well sure, go in and have a look!”  He opened the door for her and she went into the dungeon, surprised that he hadn’t sought any verification of her claim at all. 

She looked at the low-ceilinged room, lit with oil held in hollowed out goat’s horns and made entirely of stone.  It would almost be pleasant for a dungeon if not for the overwhelming stench of sewerage. 

“Oh I heard about you,” One of the guards said as she looked around, “You’re the new member of the Companions.  What do you do?  Bring them their mead?”  He laughed.

“Yeah that’s my job.”  Saadia answered and he didn’t know whether to keep laughing or not.  He hadn’t expected that response. 

She saw a man locked in the nearest cell.

“What are you in prison for?”  She asked him.  He looked up from the wooden bench he was sitting on. 

“Assault, theft, murder, and lollygagging.”  He answered.

“Lollygagging?”  She asked.

“No lollygagging.”  The guard nearby said. 

“Alright…”  Saadia said, shaking her head and walking on, looking in the cells to find a Redguard man. 

When she found him, she walked up to his gate and looked in the cell.  The Redguard man was dressed in the same garb as the Alik’r men Saadia had met so far, so she supposed he was probably Alik’r too.

His bed was a cot made of leather and fur; it didn’t look very comfortable.  He had a water barrel, a wooden bench and an open hole down to the sewerage.  It was grated over so there was no chance of escape that way.

And he was pissing down that hole when she first saw him.

“What are you looking at?”  He asked as he continued to piss, looking her up and down as he did. 

“I need to find Kematu.”  Saadia answered without any sign that she even saw him pissing, “Where is he hiding?”  He started to laugh, he was shaking his head when he tugged his cock to get the last few drops out.

“You have a death wish then?”  He looked back up at her and tugged on his cock one last time before putting it back in his pants, “If you know that name, you must know that to meet him is to meet your end.”  He walked over to the bars.  “But it seems we both have needs friend.  Perhaps we can help each other out?”  Saadia pursed her lips in thought.

“What is it that you need?”  She asked, trying to gauge this man. 

“I have dishonoured my brothers by being captured and so they have left me here.”  He looked around his stinking cell and gave her a grim smile, “My life with the Alik’r is over.”  He shrugged slightly, “But I have no wish to die in this Gods forsaken land.  If you pay my fine, I can leave this place and start anew.”  Saadia rolled her eyes and started to shake her head.  “See to that and I’ll tell you what you want to know.”  He added.  She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at him.

“Why did they leave you here?”

“Because I was clumsy enough to be captured.”  He answered simply, “Kematu always says were supposed to be the best of the best… I wasn’t.”  Saadia refrained from rolling her eyes.

“How much to pay your fine?”  She asked in a reluctant tone.

“100 gold will secure my release.”  He answered, “You can afford that can’t you?”  He asked, again looking her up and down.  “I suppose you’d better hope you can if you want the information.”  He answered with a sly grin, “Get the gold into the hands of one of these guards and I’ll tell you what you want to know.”

“Alright.”  Saadia sighed, thinking that this whole thing had better be worth it.

“Thank you friend.”  He reached out the bars and took her hand.  “Name’s Rissok M’ogba.”

“I don’t need to know your name, and you don’t need to know mine.”  Saadia answered, taking her hand from his.

“I like to know the name of women I bed.”  He answered with a lustful expression.

“You’re getting ahead of yourself there, friend.”  Saadia answered in a monotone, before turning away to go to the nearest guard.  She sighed deeply.  “I want to pay that prisoner’s fine.”  She said reluctantly.

“Done.”  The guard said and Saadia gave him the coin, “Convince him to stay out of the city while you’re at it.”

“I’ll tell him to stay out of Skyrim.”  She said and the guard gave her an approving look. 

She headed back to Rissok.

“Alright, let’s talk about how we can help each other.”  She said.

“You buy my way out of here and I’ll tell you everything.”  He said, “And you’ll have free access to me, of course.”  He added. 

“Your fine’s been paid,” Saadia ignored his pushy flirting, “now tell me about Kematu.”

“Very well.”  He said accepting her lack of interest with good humour.  “Kematu is west of Whiterun.”  He told her, “It’s an unassuming little cave called Swindlers Den; I’ll mark it on your map if you have one?”  She handed him her map and an inked quill from the table nearby.  He marked the spot and handed the map back to her.  “You realise that if you set a foot in there you’re never getting out?  Which will be a shame to waste such beauty.”

“I’ll be fine.”  Saadia answered in an annoyed tone.

“Yes… that’s your problem isn’t it?  Not mine.”  He called over to the guard.  “Guard my fine’s been paid. set me free!”

Saadia turned to leave as the guard came over.

“Sorry my ears aren’t so good, you say something?”  He asked Rissok.

“I said my fine has been paid, now let me out!”  Rissok demanded.

“Right, right.”  The guard nodded, “I’m sorry I seem to have lost my keys.”  He answered and Saadia chuckled as she left, “Might take me a while to find them.  You just sit tight I’ll get around to it eventually.”

“Curse you!”  Rissok called out at him as the guard walked away and Saadia left the fetid smelling dungeon. 

Now she had a decision to make.  Kill Kematu, or turn Iman in to him…

She decided to have a think about it.

 

***

 

The brothers had made a make-shift cage for Caiche.

And Aela and Skjor had spent days questioning her.

Kodlak had fed her, let her out of the cage to bathe and relieve herself.

But Saadia had not seen her since bringing her in.

Now it was time for Saadia to finish what she had started.  Skjor and Aela believed they had gotten everything they could out of her; even turning into werewolves before her and beginning the initiation ritual had not gotten any more out of her. 

“This is the Underforge.”  Aela said placing her hands against the solid rock wall of the cliff side underneath the Sky Forge, out the back of Jorrvaskr.  “It only opens for the initiated.”  She said as a door appeared in the rock and slowly opened.  “Do you want me to come in with you Shield-sister?”  Aela asked, “This is… a big task.”  She acknowledged.

“I’ve got it.”  Saadia said, “There’s no need for you to be here for it.” 

Aela nodded and looked down, hesitating.

“I want to thank you Shield-sister.”  She said, “You’ve done much for us… I’d lost faith in the un-blessed.”  She said, “But you… you make me believe that perhaps I can trust some people that aren’t initiated.” 

“You are my Shield-sister Aela.”  Saadia said, “My family.”  She took Aela’s upper arms in her hands, “I do not need to have the same blood as you for that to mean everything to me.” 

Aela put her arms around Saadia and they embraced, a tight hug.

“My sister.”  Aela said softly.  “I embrace you as my sister.”  When they pulled out of the hug Aela again lowered her eyes and slowly shook her head.  “I wish you luck in this… task, sister.”  Aela said softly.  “I’m sorry that… it needs to happen.”  Aela did not like the idea of killing an unarmed person any more than any of the Companions. 

Aela left the Underforge and Saadia looked around the room, carved into the living stone directly under the Sky Forge. 

There was a large basin in the middle of the room.  Saadia went up to it and put her hands on the rim.  It thrummed with a dark energy.  But it was not wholly unpleasant, unlike Nettlebane, the dagger she had retrieved for Danica. 

It was deep and dark, dangerous.  But inviting, seductive… she could feel the power that had been held in this bowl.  She ran her fingers down the rim to the centre of the bowl.  It reminded her of the strange energy she’d always felt in Farkas; that she’d felt from all of the Circle. 

She looked up and saw 3 empty shrine tables against the far wall.  She wondered what was supposed to go there.

She saw a large gash in the wall that was actually a tunnel leading to long winding passageways through the mountain of Whiterun city and the surrounds.  One of the passageways exited through an old ruined tower on the outskirts of the city, the workers refused to fix it because they believed it to be haunted; no Jarl had been able to get it fixed in hundreds of years…

But down another passageway was a cage, and Caiche sat huddled in it. 

When she saw Saadia she stood up and nodded; knowing what was coming.

“It’s time then?”  She asked.  “I know you have to kill me.”  She said, “We both know the first thing I’ll do if I’m allowed to walk free from here is go to the Silver-Hand.”

“Yes.”  Saadia answered and unlocked the cage. 

Caiche stepped out, her legs shaking but her head held high.

“I ask just one thing from you.”  She said to Saadia, “Protect my son?” 

“Why would you ask this of a werewolf?”  Saadia asked.

“The minute you attack them… the Silver-Hand will know I gave them up… my absence… you knowing their locations.”  She wiped away a tear, “They’ll kill my family.” 

“But your family are innocent.”  Saadia said.

“That doesn’t matter to them.”

“And these are the people you ally yourself with.”  Saadia shook her head.

“I believed… I believe they are doing the Gods’ work.”  She said, “Even if I don’t agree with everything they do.”  She took a deep breath, “But they’re the kind of group that once you’re in; you’re in it for life.  I suppose you understand something about that?”

“Yes.”  Saadia nodded. 

“I do believe that the influence of the Daedra needs to be wiped out of Skyrim.”  She said, “But,” She started to weep, “Killing Brandlar was the hardest thing I ever did.  I loved him so much.”  She cried, her body shaking, and Saadia put a hand on her arm.  “I told them that the Circle were different.”  She told Saadia, “And then they reminded me that you’re still cursed by the Daedra… and we had made a vow…”  She pulled herself together and looked up at Saadia, “I know that even though you are cursed by Hircine, that if you give your word, you will keep it.  Swear to me that you will protect my son... and my sister, and my grandmother… Take them back to High Rock.  They’ll be safe there.”

“I swear it.”  Saadia answered, knowing that High Rock was the country of the Bretons, and a far journey.  “You have my word as Dovahkiin.” 

Caiche looked at her in wonder.

“You are blessed by the Gods…?”  She asked in awe, confused, “But also cursed by…?”  She dropped to her knees, her hands gingerly touching Saadia’s hand.  “I kneel before a living God…”  She whispered, “Talos reincarnated.”  She lowered her head and began to pray for forgiveness.

“Stand Caiche.”  Saadia said, helping her up, “I am no God.  Being Dragonborn does not make me a God.”  She said, “And yes, a person can be touched by both the Aedra and the Daedra at the same time.” 

“I cannot believe that the Aedra would let it be?”  She said, “unless… unless we were wrong, and it is a blessing not a curse.”  She looked confused.

“I don’t know what it means.”  Saadia said, “Only that it can happen.”  Saadia began to wonder if it really could happen.  “And I am sworn to protect your family.  I will see them returned to High Rock.” 

Caiche nodded, looking into her eyes gratefully.  She smiled.

“I am ready.”  She said, her hands again going to Saadia’s, “I have seen a living God, I know my family will be safe.  I am ready.”  She closed her eyes and held her hands out awaiting her death. 

Saadia paused, moved by Caiche’s final moments, but knowing there was no other way.

She swung her big greatsword around and beheaded Caiche cleanly. 

A quick, painless death. 

Saadia stood over Caiche’s body, her emotions swirling for a moment before settling into an unsettling calm.  She worried that it had been too easy to kill Caiche.  And then she remembered that tortured werewolf, that Nurie had been sent back to the Companions in pieces, that Caiche had claimed to love Brandlar and had still killed him even though she knew he was no threat to anyone, and that the Silver-Hand would kill an innocent child…

The peace and calm inside of her no longer seemed so unsettling.

When she left the Underforge, the Circle were waiting for her at the outside tables.

“It is done.”  She said.

“How did she die?”  Kodlak asked.

“Well.”  Saadia answered, “On her feet, and ready.”  Kodlak nodded slowly.  “She made me swear to protect her family from the Silver-Hand.”  Saadia said.  “She wanted them taken back to High Rock.” 

“I’ll take them.”  Aela said firmly.

“I’ll come with you.”  Skjor said. 

“I will gather some coin for them.”  Kodlak said.  “And Vilkas and Farkas will hit the first Silver-Hand target.”  He looked back at Saadia, “You have done enough for now.”

“We can’t hit the Silver-Hand until her family are safely out of Skyrim.”  Saadia said.  “And I’ll be the one to tell them about her death.” 

 

***

 

“Your mother died a heroine.”  Saadia said to the little boy and then looked back at Caiche’s crying sister, her grim looking grandmother, “She died protecting the innocent, stamping out the threat of the Daedra in Skyrim.”  She continued, “And without her help, the Companions would have been sorely injured.” 

“Thank you for coming to tell us Companion.”  The elderly woman said.  “Hail Companion.”  She said softly. 

Saadia had guessed that Caiche would have kept her Silver-Hand identity a secret from her family; since she had kept the secret from her lover of 5 years, and they had no idea why she had them in hiding. 

“Hail Companion.”  Caiche’s sister said through her tears. 

“We honour our fallen brethren.”  Saadia said, “And we will carry out her last wish for her son.”  She said looking at the bewildered little boy, “To return to High Rock.”

“Truly?”  Her sister said, wiping her tears, “I’ve wanted to return for years, but she insisted on staying.”

“Because she was aiding in the fight against the threat of Daedric influence in Skyrim.”  Saadia said.  “But now she would have you all return home.”

“To help with this, we’ll be accompanying you.”  Aela said, “I’m Aela, this is Skjor.”

“Hail Companions.”  The two women said to them. 

“We also wanted to help Caiche’s son.”  Skjor said and handed the grandmother a bag of gold with tens of thousands of gold pieces in it.  The old woman’s eyes opened in surprise. 

“Just before she died, I gave my word to your granddaughter that I would look after her family.”  Saadia explained the gold. 

“And all of the Companions will see it done.”  Aela added. 

“Thank you.”  Caiche’s sister said.

“I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done for our family.”  The old woman said taking Saadia’s hands, “I hope your mother is proud of you; she should be.”

 

***

 

Saadia walked into Falkreath with a hollowed out feeling in her chest.

She needed to be away from everyone for a while; she had told Lucia before she left that she’d be gone for a month or more and she told Lydia she’d send gold.  

She’d known she’d need some time away after killing Caiche. 

So she decided that now was the time to take the Jarl of Falkreath up on their offer to become Thane. 

The first guard she saw asked her if she had seen a dog wondering around out there.

“I’ve seen some wolves, no dogs…”  Saadia told him.

“The blacksmith is offering a reward for a dog he’s seen out on the road.  I was hoping you’d seen it.”  He sighed, “I guess I’ll keep an eye out.  But if you see it, let me know?”

“Sure.”  Saadia answered, continuing down the road to the largest building in town; the Jarl’s longhouse. 

It was a large, double story house, dwarfing all the other houses in the city… Saadia thought it looked more like a large village than a city…

And the Jarl… He was a smug looking man, a slightly weaker jawline than Saadia was used to seeing on Nord men, but piercing green eyes and brown curled hair, kept shorter than usually seen on Nords… he was even clean-shaven.  And if it wasn’t for his attitude, he’d be remarkably attractive. 

But Siddgeir leaned back on his chair, his throne, as if he was gracing all of Nirn with his presence.  He looked altogether too young to have the responsibility of Jarl.  Saadia eyed him closely as she approached his throne. 

“Jarl Siddgeir-” Saadia started to say as she stood before him.

“Yes?  What is it you want?”  He asked without looking up from his book; _‘The Lusty Argonian Maid’_ a pornographic story. 

“I got your letter.  I’m Saadia.”  Saadia said flatly. 

“Ah, it’s you!”  He leaned forward in his chair and looked her up and down.  “I see that the stories are true…”  He smiled slyly at her before leaning back in his chair, “There's a group of bandits in my Hold that I... may have had a few discreet dealings with.”  He said condescendingly, “The cut they were giving me was good at first, but now it's time to clean things up.  Go and take care of it.”  He practically dismissed her before she had had time to reply.

“Alright.”  Saadia answered, stopping herself from shaking her head at him.

“Good.”  He said, “Execute every last bandit.  Spare no one.”

He had his Steward mark up the location of the mine the bandits were in on Saadia’s map, and dismissed her again, sitting down to eat. 

Saadia left the Jarl’s longhouse with her eyes open in surprise.  After Jarl Balgruuf she was expecting something far better than that from a Jarl. 

The trip to the mine had not been as straight forward as Saadia would have liked.

She finally found out what a Spriggan was – up close and personal – when she stumbled across a beautiful crystal clear pond surrounded by ancient looking trees.  A beautiful grove.  Saadia could have sat in its beauty all day…

If not for the Spriggan.

A being formed by twisted tree wood and green magic to form a beautiful woman of the forest… who was willing to kill anything encroaching on her forest. 

She sent swarms of hornets against Saadia, and enthralled the animals to fight against her, and slashed at Saadia with poisoned claw-like, wooden fingers.  She used powerful earth magic to evade Saadia when she finally decided that she couldn’t simply walk away from the fight; the Spriggan wouldn’t let it drop.

Saadia felt bad killing her; after all she agreed with the Spriggan about protecting the forested places… but it became another battle of ‘me or you’ and Saadia was not going to lose it just because she liked what Spriggans where about. 

She found the corpse of an alchemist nearby; killed by the Spriggan.  And further upstream she’d found his camp, his journal detailing his work with nirnroot; the strange glowing plant she’d seen a long time ago.  She also learned that it hummed, and had an effect on the ecosystems it grew in. 

She went through his things and found lots of herbs for Arcadia… and also Human flesh.  Saadia didn’t feel so bad about the Spriggan killing the alchemist anymore…

She looked at the grove, sad that it would no longer have a protector.

She didn’t know that Spriggans could revive themselves and were essentially immortal.  Vilkas would tell her that in the future and she’d feel a lot better.

She’d also had to storm a bandit infested tower.  At least that had had good loot and no sense of guilt. 

By the time she reached the mine she was very cranky, and the bandits were on the receiving end of her bad mood.

She killed them all.  And looted everything of worth from the site; not caring if the mine belonged to the Jarl. 

It was nightfall when she returned to find the Jarl sitting down to dinner. 

She took out the head of the Bandit chief Siddgeir had wanted killed and dropped in on the long table, right in front of the Jarl. 

His steward and housecarl jumped to their feet, but the Jarl just kept chewing his meat, his eyes on Saadia. 

“Is there anything else I can do for you, my Jarl?”  Saadia asked in a sarcastic tone. 

Jarl Siddgeir looked at the head of the bandit chief and nodded slowly.

“Teach them to stop paying me.”  He nodded to a servant, “You deserve a reward for your service.”  The servant tossed her a bag of coin.  He sat staring at her for a moment longer before nodding again.  “You know what?”  He asked her, “I like you – you’re not afraid to get your hands dirty.”  He nodded towards his steward, “Talk to my steward about purchasing some property in Falkreath Hold.”

“My Jarl?”  His steward asked, surprised.  But he waved her off, his eyes on Saadia, and continued. 

“There is room in my court for a new Thane.  It's mostly an honorary title, but there are a few perks someone like you could definitely exploit.  However, I could only grant the title to someone who is known throughout my Hold.  You help my people, and I'll make you my Thane.”

“Understood.  My Jarl.”  Saadia said the words as if they tasted bad and Siddgeir chuckled dangerously.

“Off you go then.”  He said and waved her off.

Saadia turned to the Steward.

“I’m Nenya.”  She said, “I serve under Siddgeir, and served his uncle before him.”  Saadia could see that she was an Altmer – a High Elf.  The Thalmor were exclusively High Elves.  And while Saadia knew that there were many Altmer that didn’t agree with the Aldmeri Dominion or the Thalmor, it still seemed strange to see one serving a Nord Jarl in Skyrim. 

“About that property?”

“There’s no houses.”  Nenya said, trying to keep her eyes off the beheaded head and not succeeding.  “But there is… a rather large piece of land I can sell you.  You can build your own house on it.”

“I’ll take it.” 

 

***

 

Saadia decided to see to getting the Thane-ship before going out to view her land; it shouldn’t be too hard to become well known in this hold, the city was so small that helping one person would probably get her quite a reputation.

She went into the general goods store, Grey Pine Goods, and immediately a blond haired man rushed up to her and looked her up and down.  He curled his lip in disgust.

“I can’t believe we let provincials like you wonder around Skyrim.”  He was dripping with vitriol for her.  Saadia turned to look at the other man in the room.  The resemblance was clear – they were brothers. 

“Well met, unlike my brother, I have no dislike of strangers,” He said motioning for her to come into the store, “Met lots of them when I was a Stormcloak.”

“You’re a Stormcloak?’  Saadia asked, interested in his story. 

“I was, but not anymore.  I was wounded in a skirmish up near Windhelm.  This was years ago, mind you.”  He said, “Now maybe I don’t pick up a blade in Ulfric’s name anymore.  But I still hold with his ideals.  Skyrim is a land for the Nords, and we ought to rule it.  We don’t need no help from the Empire on that count.”

“And what about people who aren’t Nords?”  Saadia asked as his brother left the store.

“Welcome here, as long as they’re not Thalmor agents!”  He said with a knowing nod of his head. 

“Of course.”  Saadia said, “I think both sides in this argument can agree to disliking the Thalmor.”  She said and he gave her a chuckle.

“And yet they have their heads up the Thalmor’s backsides.”  He said, “I say we shouldn’t rut with people we don’t like.”  He gave her a smile and looked her up and down, “That should be reserved only for those we do like.”

“Good point.”  Saadia said returning the man’s gaze.

Saadia left 45 minutes later, pulling some deathbell out of her satchel, and still not knowing the store owner’s name…

And still having no leads on how to help the people of Falkreath. 

She stopped off at Corpselight Farm, right in the middle of the city, and harvested most of the crops they had ready for harvesting.  It was hours of backbreaking labour and at the end of it, a pittance of money.

“Honest pay for honest work my arse.”  Saadia grumbled as she left the farm and headed towards the inn, “They better tell everyone how great I was at working.”  She continued to mutter.  She had to get her reputation up in the Hold. 

She stepped into the Deadman’s Drink, for a mead, a meal, and some gossip – that might head her in the right direction for better work than farm work.

“Oh you’re going to have the men wrapped around your finger in no time.”  Narri, a barmaid, sweeping the floor, said when Saadia walked past. 

“I wouldn’t mind having the women wrapped around my fingers too.”  Saadia told her and Narri raised her eyebrows suggestively.  Saadia booked a room for the night and eyed Narri; it was clear who would be sharing her bed that night; a beautiful, buxom, chestnut haired woman with ivory skin and blue eyes so dark they almost looked black. 

The bard struck up a song, and Saadia settled in to eat and find some work. 

She ended up with a few errands to run, taking ashes to the priest of Arkay, and things like that… but she also met Jarl Siddgeir’s uncle, who had been removed from being Jarl by Siddgeir, and was completely paranoid about Empire plots against Falkreath, and Thalmor spies behind every door… He asked her to break into the blacksmith’s house to find proof that he was a Thalmor spy.

Saadia left the inn and sighed.

“Why can’t I get through a week without being asked to break the law…?”  She mumbled to herself. 

She headed towards the graveyard; where the hall of the dead and the priest of Arkay would be. 

The graveyard was absolutely huge.

Saadia looked at in awe.

She picked a flower; deep purple, shaped like a star.  Beautiful.  And continued walk around the empty graveyard.

She found Runil tending the graves and gave him the ashes of Berit; a Nord warrior who had been cremated, a man at the inn had asked her to drop them off. 

After a long discussion about Arkay and how life and death were intertwined, and how this wise old High Elf, otherwise known as Altmer, had ended up here tending the dead because too many people had died at his hands in the Great War and he was seeking forgiveness and redemption… he asked Saadia to help him find his old journal… to which she agreed.  Of course. 

Saadia decided to go and see the blacksmith; she remembered the guard saying something about him needing help with a dog.  She also wanted to find out about his feelings about Dengeir; the man who was sure he was a spy.

“Did you see a hound on the road?  A fine strong creature that’s been wondering near town?”

“No, sorry, I haven’t seen the dog.”  Saadia answered.  The blacksmith sighed. 

“There’s one out on the road.  I can’t afford to chase it down, but I could use a fierce loyal beast to keep me company.  If you were willing to retrieve him for me… I’d give you some fresh meat to attract him?

“Sure, I’ll get him for you.”  Saadia said. 

“Good, there’s some gold in it for you, if you succeed.  Here’s the meat, he’s just up the road outside of town.”

“Great.”  Saadia said, “Listen, how do you feel about Dengeir?”  She asked, getting straight to the point.

“Steel’s good.  But loyalty is more important.”  He answered, “I’m loyal to Dengeir first and the Empire second.”

“Sounds like loyalty is important to you?”

“I was Dengeir’s personal guard for years.  I risked my life more than once to protect him.  Why would I do that?  Money?  Because I swore an oath?  No… because Dengeir is a good man and a true friend.  And a true Nord stays true to a good friend.”  
“I can understand that.”  Saadia said, admiring this man.  “I’ll see if I can go find this dog for you.”  She said and left the blacksmith, deciding to have a long talk to Dengeir tonight at the inn, to convince him of Lod’s loyalty.  She’d much rather do that than break into this good man’s home.

She was just heading out of town when a servant from the Jarl showed up.

“You’ve already made waves in Falkreath… All that farm work you did?  You’ve fed the whole town for a month!”  The servant said, “The Jarl wants to see you.”

Saadia was granted Thane-ship of Falkreath on the first day she’d stepped foot in the city. 

And now she had another housecarl: Rayya.  A Redguard woman.  And the ‘blade of Falkreath’ from the Jarl’s personal armoury.  It had been far too easy; these people didn’t even know she was Dragonborn.

She took her leave of the Jarl, and headed outside of town, Rayya following, to find this dog for the lonely blacksmith. 

What she found, was not what she’d been expecting.

 

 


	11. Part 11

  

“You are exactly what I was looking for!”

Saadia had seen the dog not far from the city.  He looked remarkably similar to her own dog, Meeko. 

“Did you just talk?”  She asked the dog. 

She looked to see Rayya eyeing the dog suspiciously 

“Yeah Skyrim is now host to giant flying lizards and 2-legged cat men, and you’re surprised by me?”  The dog asked sarcastically, “Yeah I just talked and I am continuing to do so.”  Saadia leaned away from the sarcastic mutt and folded her arms, “You see my name is Barbas, and I have a problem I think you can help me sort out.”  Saadia rolled her eyes; everyone needed her help it seemed, even the talking dogs.

“So, what could a dog need help with?”  She asked.

“My master and I had a bit of a falling out.”  The dog said, Saadia noticing it’s lisp for the first time.  She wondered if having a dog shaped mouth made it hard to speak in Human languages.  “We got into an argument and it got rather… heated.”  Barbas chose his words carefully, “He’s kicked me out until I find someone who can settle our disagreement. That’s where you come in.”

“I can’t imagine why he’d kick you out.”  Rayya said sarcastically; the dog’s voice was grating.  Saadia gave Rayya an appreciative look; a woman who spoke her mind. 

“Wall… I guess you could say I did get on his nerves.”  Barbas admitted, “I tend to be the voice of reason and he finds that… irksome.”  Barbas sighed, “And he couldn’t just kill me because we’re… we’re technically part of each other.”

“Technically…”  Saadia said, sizing this dog up.

“But he was able to banish me from his domain… Even though our separation makes him weaker…”  Barbas sounded a little hurt, “I guess he figured it was a small price to pay for not having to listen to me anymore.”

Saadia turned to see Rayya cocking an eyebrow; they shared an amused look, before Saadia turned back to the dog.

“So you’re a lost little puppy?”  She asked in a deliberately fake, sympathetic voice.

“Very funny.”  Barbas replied, and actually rolled his eyes.  “My master is Clavicus Vile.  Daedric Prince of wishes.”  Saadia was suddenly very serious; all humour gone.  “As you can imagine he’s quite the important person.”

She considered all she knew about the Daedric Princes; they were considered to be vile, evil creatures who toyed with human lives as if they were nothing.  They were not to be trusted for they would fool Humans in any way they could, and many of them wanted to destroy all mortals. 

But the Beastblood the Circle had, came from Hircine; a Daedra.  And that made Saadia curious to meet a Daedra.  Was this dog a Daedra?  This is not what she had expected from such supposedly evil beings. 

She turned back to Rayya, who was now staring at the dog alertly, her fingers near the hilts of her dual scimitars.  Rayya looked up at Saadia’s questioning face.

“Lead me where you will, my Thane, my sword is always yours to command.”  Rayya reassured her. 

Saadia turned back to Barbas.

“Alright, sounds easy enough.  Let’s go find him.” 

“Thank you!”  Barbas said, his tail wagging.  He even barked, “Now as you know, since he banished me Vile’s been rather weak.  He can’t manifest very far from one of his shrines.”  He cocked his head to the side in thought, “I know there’s a cult that worships him out at Haemar’s Shame, we should find him there.  If this works out, I’ll make sure you’re rewarded…”  He started to head up the road and then stopped, looking back at Saadia, “Just don’t trust any offer he makes you, ok?”

Saadia and Rayya shared an amused look and started to follow Barbas; who took off at breakneck speed.

Barbas lead them through some beautiful scenery; very mountainous with tall treed forests… but Saadia didn’t get to enjoy them because she and Rayya were struggling to keep up with the mutt.

And then Barbas simply sat down in the middle of the road and had a nap.

And nothing Saadia or Rayya could do would wake him up… for 2 hours.

Saadia was about to give up and leave the dog there when he woke up and barked at them, running off again.

“I’m going to kill this dog…”  Saadia said to herself before following him, Rayya at her side. 

They ran on for some time, Saadia wondering how far away this shrine to Clavicus Vile was. 

She saw 2 women walking ahead, Barbas rubbing up against one of them, then the other, like a cat. 

“Sorry about him.”  She said when she got to them, but the one woman was stroking him and Barbas was lapping it up.

“Oh it’s alright.”  She said.  Both women were clearly farmers, and destitute. 

“There are Dragons about traveller, be warned.”  The other woman said.

“I know; I was at Helgen.”  Saadia answered, “And Kynesgrove.”  She added.

“Then you’ve seen them too.”  She said, “My wife and I lost our home, our livestock… we barely have enough gold to get by.”  She said, looking at her wife gently stroking the dog, getting some comfort from the animal. 

“Here.”  Saadia said taking a coin purse from her satchel.  It had about 100 gold coins in it and the farmers were overjoyed.

“Thank you!”  She replied, “Thank you traveller, be safe and don’t forget to keep an eye on the sky.”

“Thank you for your kindness.”  The other farmer said, taking her hand gently before they both continued on their way, turning left off the road. 

“What a pair of nice ladies.”  Barbas said, watching them go, “Wouldn’t mind sitting on the end of their beds at night; if you know what I mean.”  He joked.

“Disgusting mutt.”  Rayya grumbled. 

But he simply barked and ran on. 

Saadia began to recognise the surrounding the countryside, and her heart dropped; sure enough, up ahead was Helgen.

When she got to the township, she was glad to see that there were no new bandits.  She stopped at the graves her and Lydia had dug and took a moment to show her respect.  Barbas stopping and looking at her quizzically. 

Then he began to dig around and found a femur.

“Stop that!”  Saadia said, but Barbas began to run off.  Rayya took out her bow and arrow and shot the dog in its arse. 

He whelped loudly and came to a standstill, dropping the bone.

“YOU SHOT ME!”  He yelped. 

“The next shot will go in your balls.”  Rayya answered emotionlessly.

“You’re lucky I’m impervious to human weapons.”  He answered, as Saadia snatched the bone off the floor and returned it to its grave.

“Wasting perfectly good bones.”  He complained and sat down to watch Saadia rebury the bone, while she muttered darkly about finding a non-Human weapon to deal with this dog.  Rayya grinned in approval at her Thane’s mutterings. 

They started to head out of Helgen, Barbas cocked his leg and peed on the broken gates and then trotted on slowly, peeing on the first tree he found, and then the next one.

“Is he trying to be annoying?”  Saadia gritted her teeth. 

The going was slower now that Barbas had decided to spread his scent on everything.  But Saadia found that she actually didn’t mind that after the hard run up to this point. 

Barbas led them higher into the mountains, snow beginning, fall, and past a Stormcloak encampment, barking loudly the whole time. 

And then he took off after a rabbit.  A rabbit some hunters were also hunting…

“DIE BEAST!”  They yelled as they ran down the rabbit.  Saadia began to wonder what the rabbits of Skyrim were like that the hunters took killing them so seriously.

“Come on Barbas!”  Saadia called after him as he chased the rabbit.  He ran back to them, his tail wagging enthusiastically.  “Move it.”  Saadia said to him tensely. 

It was some time later that they finally found the opening to the cave.

“Hold up!”  She said to Barbas, “I want to know what we’re up against before we go too far in.” 

She crept through the cave as quietly as she could; which wasn’t that quiet at the best of times, but with Barbas and Rayya following her, she may as well have been blowing a war horn.

She heard a conversation up ahead and stopped to peer around a corner to see a few people standing around talking.

They were vampires.  She could tell by the red gleam in their eyes. 

She didn’t know how to fight vampires.

And she heard it was very easy to contract vampirism.

Vilkas had already told her that her Kynareth’s Kiss would not cure it… that made this fight a particularly interesting one, to say the least. 

“Know how to kill Vampires?”  She asked Rayya who simply held up one of her scimitars.

“Sharp edges slices throat, my Thane.”  She answered

“Right then, let’s try the old slice and dice routine.”  Saadia agreed before trying to creep up closer to the vampires, wanting to be as close as possible before they knew she was there. 

But with the racket the three of them were making, the Vampires heard her fairly quickly, two of them came for her, one of them brandishing a dagger, the other firing electricity and a strange red spell at her.  The others attacked Rayya and Barbas.

The red spell hit Saadia in the chest and formed a link between her and the Vampire… Saadia could feel it feeding off her life force. 

She pushed forward and beheaded the vampire that had been running at her, running as fast as she could towards the other one, feeling weakness spread through her limbs.  She beheaded that one too and had to gasp for air, her knees nearly giving way. 

It seemed that vampires were easy to kill, but hard to fight. 

“Magic.”  Saadia muttered darkly and shook her head as she looked down at their corpses.  She knew that they drank their victims blood, but she hadn’t known that they also used magic to feed. 

Luckily, Saadia felt her strength returning to her as she searched the bodies. 

Perhaps also luckily, Barbas had decided to run off ahead, chasing after a fleeing vampire thrall.  Rayya and Saadia let him go, completely unconcerned. 

As they continued through the cave, they saw one dead vampire after another, throats ripped out by Barbas.  Saadia searched the bodies, stripping them of their expensive looking armour and putting it in her bag to sell. 

“He’s annoying, my Thane… but he is a good fighter.”  Rayya noted as they came to a room with 5 dead vampires. 

This was some kind of bedroom, only the beds were coffins, and there were dead people everywhere.  Also, there were shelves full of great books for Saadia and Lucia to read, including a book about Daedra… and perhaps most importantly there were some treasure chests.  Saadia opened them up and took everything of worth, including a wooden training sword for Lucia… she didn’t need to know where it came from…

“I guess he’s useful at the moment.”  Saadia noted as they continued to follow the trail of bodies. 

Eventually they came to a room filled with frostbite spiders, Barbas curled up in the corner shaking. 

“Seriously?”  Saadia said as she saw the dog’s terror.  “What is it with dogs and spiders?”  She mumbled to herself, thinking of Farkas… although he was a wolf… and he managed to kill a lot of spiders, even if he was scared. 

Saadia and Rayya killed the spiders off and returned to Barbas, who promptly got up.  
“Shut up.”  He said and ran off through the room, giving the dead spider bodies a wide berth.  Rayya snorted back a laugh, and then had to laugh out loud, Saadia joining in. 

“Why would the pet of a Daedra be scared of spiders?”  Saadia shook her head and they continued on, trying to get their laughter under control. 

They passed through a room with dozens of small cages with people in them, mostly dead, and blood everywhere.  A Vampire feeding room – here is where they kept their Human cattle.  Barbas had already killed the Vampires in this room, of course. 

There was a barely alive woman in one of the cages. 

“She will have vampirism, my Thane.”  Rayya said as Saadia let her out of the cage. 

“So we must kill her?”  Saadia asked.

“No, I have a cure disease potion.”  Rayya said handing it to Saadia who gave her a quizzical expression. 

“I thought it wasn’t curable with… healing potions, because it came from the Daedra?”  Saadia asked. 

“Those that are cursed directly by Molag Bal are incurable.”  Rayya nodded, “But those that are given the curse by other vampires, have about 3, maybe 4 days, before it takes complete hold of them.”  She said.  “Then it is incurable, my Thane.” 

“Molag Bal is a Daedric Prince?”  Saadia asked and Rayya nodded, “So that’s Hircine, Clavicus Vile and Molag Bal… How many Daedric Princes are there?”  She asked as she gently put the potion to the woman’s lips. 

“There are 17 Daedric Lords that I know of.”  Rayya said, “Do you want me to name them all, my Thane?”

“No, I won’t remember them all.”  Saadia said, “But they’re pretty evil, right?”

“They don’t seem to have the same sense of morality that we have.  Many of them are tricksters, or experimental, and some are actually good… although there are some that seem to have a genuine taste for destruction, death and evil.” 

“Which ones?”  Saadia asked, so she could know which ones to avoid.

“Depends on who you ask, my Thane.”

“I’m asking you.”  Saadia answered, “Who are the worst of them?”

“Molag Bal, Mehrunes Dagon, Peryite, Vaermina, and Boethiah.”  Rayya answered, pulling out a healing potion for the women and handing it to Saadia.

“Thanks.”  Saadia said and slowly began to pour the healing potion into the woman’s mouth.  “And the ones that are good?”

“Meridia and Azura, my Thane.”  Rayya added, “But they are more seen as not wholly evil, than actually good.”

“Azura… I heard about a shrine to Azura somewhere.”  She said, “People worship them?”

“Oh yes, my Thane.”  Rayya answered, “And some people willingly beg Molag Bal to curse them with vampirism… Some see it as a great honour.”

“I guess that’s same as being a werewolf.”  Saadia mused to herself, Rayya cocking an eyebrow at her, “Some think it’s a blessing, others a curse.” 

“Many things in life are different things to different people.”  Rayya answered.  “I would find it horrible to go to Sovngarde,” She noted as an example, “I would much prefer The Far Shores of our people.  But all these Nords long to see Sovngarde when they die.” 

“Oh I’ve heard their love of Sovngarde over and over.”  Saadia agreed, “It’s basically a big drinking hall, where they eat and drink and tell old war stories forever, right?”

“That’s my understanding of it.”  Rayya answered, “At least The Far Shores is safe from Satakal, and has plenty of martial challenges.”

“Satakal?”  Saadia asked.

“Our serpentine God, my Thane.  Eats the world over and over, sometimes eats all of creation.” 

“Oh…”  Saadia said in thought, “There’s so many different Gods… they can’t all be real.”

“Perhaps they are just different names for the same thing?”  Rayya said, “Satakal for Alduin, perhaps, my Thane?”

“You think Alduin is a God?”  Saadia asked.

“You do not?  A being that can eat the world?”  Rayya asked.

Saadia thought about it for a moment, wondering what a God was exactly.

“All I know-”  Saadia began to answer, but the woman was finally coming to. 

“Wher-?”  She looked around and started to shake with fear, “Please…?”  She begged.

“It’s alright.”  Saadia soothed, “I just released you.”  The woman stared at her, almost not believing her.  “Head out that way.”  Saadia pointed towards the exit, “Everything’s dead, so you just have to get out of here and head home.”

“I’ll turn into a vampire.”  She whispered miserably.

“No.”  Rayya said simply.  “You were given a cure.” 

“Thank you, kind warriors.”  She took a few gold coins from her pocket and put them in Saadia’s hand, “Thank you for saving my life.”

“Oh I don’t need this gold.”  Saadia felt bad for taking it, but the woman would not take it back.

“You saved my life.”  She said, “May the 8 Divines bless you.”  She said before leaving, running as fast as she could. 

Saadia got up and looked at the gold.  She shrugged and put it in a coin purse. 

“Why do some people say 8 Divines and others say 9?”  Saadia asked Rayya as they continued on.

“Because Talos worship has been outlawed, my Thane.”

“Oh that’s right.”  Saadia remembered.  “So some people still worship him obviously.” 

“Obviously.”  Rayya agreed. 

“Alright, let’s find this mutt.”  Saadia said and they gladly left the bloody room.

Finally they came to a room with benches facing a huge stone statue of a man holding out a horned mask.

It was a room designed for worship, and Saadia saw an altar before the statue, with many offerings; flowers, gold, gems, and a dead woman, her heart ripped out. 

“Charming.”  Rayya said as she looked down at the altar. 

They saw Barbas in a circle of dead vampires, looking up at the statue. 

When they got there he barked frantically at the statue.

Saadia looked at him and then at the statue.

“Alright.”  She said, wondering what would happen, she reached out slowly and put her hand on the statue.

Nothing happened.

Barbas barked even louder now.  Saadia got the message and stared up at the statue. 

“Clavicus Vile, I-”

“Lord.”  Barbas corrected and Saadia sighed.

“Lord,” She said pointedly, “Clavicus Vile,” The words came out sarcastically, “I have a request of you.”  She thought only of finally getting rid of Barbas.

“By all means let’s hear it.”  It was not the kind of voice she had expected; it sounded like a rich spoiled aristocrat who was deeply in his cups.  “It’s the least I can do since you already helped me grant one final wish for my worshippers.”  Clavicus Vile sounded utterly amused, “They were suffering so from vampirism, and begged me for a cure.”  He explained with a fake serious voice, “and then you came,” He said with an excited voice, “and freed them from their misery!”  He was triumphant, “Couldn’t have scripted it better myself.”  Saadia had to stop herself from shuddering at how pleased he sounded, “So, what kind of deal can we strike?  What is your heart’s desire?”  And now a slight tone change; there was an edge of danger in his voice now.  Saadia knew he wanted to make a deal; to trick her into a deal she’d regret.  

“I’m just here to reunite you with Barbas.”  Saadia chose her words carefully. 

“Ugh!”  He sounded disgusted.  “That insufferable pup?”  Outraged, “Forget it!  Request denied!  No deal!”  He said firmly, “I’m glad to be rid of him even if it does mean I’m stuck in this pitiful shrine, in the back end of… nowhere…”  He seemed to remember where he was, “Perhaps there is a way he could earn his place back at my side.  Maybe.  But no promises.”  He was quick to add.  Saadia opened her mouth to speak but he continued, “As much as I hate to say it, you're almost as powerful as I am right now.  But that's just because half of my power resides in that mutt, Barbas.  Come to think of it, I know of a win-win situation for both of us…”  Saadia heard the scheming in his voice.

“What’s your offer?”  Saadia asked, narrowing her eyes in distrust.

“There's an axe.”  He answered carefully, “An incredibly powerful axe.  An axe powerful enough for me to have quite a bit of fun, indeed.”  He seemed to get excited about the axe and Saadia put her hands on her hips, “If you bring it to me, I'll grant you my boon.”  He said condescendingly, as if she were too much a child to understand how amazing that was, but should also be simultaneously utterly thrilled by this.  “No strings attached.”  He reassured her, “No messy surprises.”  He added, “At least, not for you.”  He said in a sly undertone; obviously impressed and amused by his own genius, and then hurried on to the next thing, “As I recall, it's resting in Rimerock Burrow.  Barbas can lead you right to it.  The little mutt might even earn his place back at my side.”  Clavicus added, and Saadia didn’t believe one word of it. 

“He’s done now.”  Barbas said and turned to her, “Let’s go then.”

Saadia traipsed up the stairs behind the statue of Clavicus Vile, muttering darkly and had her mood slightly improved by the sight of a treasure chest.

She opened up the treasure chest and picked up a powerfully enchanted weapon, not as good as her improved Sky Forge steel, but enough to earn her a few hundred gold, she found gold, gems, and more weapons and armour to sell.

And a strange round orb.  But it wasn’t perfectly round, rather it had many faces, hundreds perhaps.  And it was a strange whitish grey colour. 

Rayya and Saadia looked down at it, wondering what it was. 

Saadia reached in and picked it up, and as soon as she did a loud woman’s voice boomed out in Saadia’s mind. 

“A new hand touches the beacon.  Listen!”  It commanded, “I am Meridia!  Hear me and obey!” 

“Can you hear that?””  Saadia asked Rayya and she nodded slowly.

“A foul darkness has seeped into my temple.  A darkness that you will destroy!”

“Oh will I now?”  Saadia asked, thinking that these Daedra were very pushy. 

“Return my beacon to Mt. Kilkreath and I will make you the instrument of my cleansing light!” 

Saadia and Rayya stood in silence for a moment, waiting for the voice to say more.  But it was silent. 

“Well then….”  Saadia said, wondering if she should put the beacon down.  But Meridia wasn’t wholly evil… Perhaps she should go and check this temple out…

Saadia put the beacon in her bag and headed out the back entrance of the cave. 

“It’s only a short journey to Rimerock Burrow!”  Barbas informed them, “Come on!” 

Three hours later, Saadia was utterly livid and there was no doubting that this was not going to be a short journey.

She would miss out on talking to Dengeir about Lod’s loyalty and she wouldn’t be bedding Narri tonight. 

She had to kill a bear; she remembered that there was a price out on bear skins, so she skinned the bear… thinking about Ria and her love of killing bears.

They came across a beautiful clearing, Saadia finding another dead alchemist and knowing there’d be Spriggans nearby – she left before disturbing them.

They travelled over an ancient stone bridge, with huge finger like pillars reaching up to the sky, getting progressively taller until the very centre spiked leaned in together; a huge dragon head in stone mounted on them.  Beyond the bridge was a town, imaginatively called Dragon Bridge.  But Saadia ran through the town without talking to the villagers; she wanted this thing with Barbas to be over.

They scrambled over mountains, climbing up rock walls…

They saw some bandits and a conjurer fighting.  She aided the conjurer, only to have him turn on her as soon as the battle was over.  She looted his body as soon as that battle was over.

They ran for hours… 12 hours… Saadia feeling very ill-tempered towards Barbas. 

They passed creepy looking barrows, looming over the plains, high on mountain sides in the distance…. They passed old forts, and caves. 

Saadia might have stopped to explore some of these if not for Barbas, who was being his usual charming self. 

When they were up high in the mountains, she looked out to the ocean and saw an ancient, huge castle in the distance on an island.  It made her think of her childhood and her mood worsened. 

They came upon the barrow from above it, so Saadia scaled down the walls to it rather than try to find a path down.  Rayya was a gifted rock climber as well and followed with ease.

They went in…

And killed a mage inside remarkably quickly and easily.

“That’s it?”  Rayya asked as Saadia picked up the axe; it was on the table.  She turned back to Barbas. 

“So what’s the story with this axe?”

“One of Clavicus’s little jests.”  Barbas answered, “A wizard named Sebastion Lort,” Barbas looked at the dead wizard, “had a daughter that worshipped Hircine.”  Saadia listened closely; Hircine was a Daedra she wanted to know more about.  “When the daughter became a werewolf, Lort couldn’t stand it.  The wizard wished for the ability to end his daughter’s curse.”  Barbas looked at the axe in Saadia’s hands, “Clavicus gave him an axe.”

Saadia looked to Rayya.

“Typical Daedra behaviour, my Thane.”  Rayya answered.  Saadia took a deep breath and looked around the cave.

And her mood instantly improved; there was so much loot in this cave!

When she started to put some things back; knowing she couldn’t carry it all, Rayya stopped her and took the armour Saadia had been putting aside, putting it into her own satchel.

“I am sworn to carry your burdens, my Thane.”  Rayya said, “And not only do I have a bag that takes some of the weight, but I am guided by the Steed Stone.”

“The Steed Stone?”  Saadia asked, letting Rayya take as much as she wanted.

“It makes your armour weigh nothing.”  Rayya answered, “And allows you to carry far more; making you stronger and giving you more stamina.”

“I’m currently guided by the warrior stone.”  Saadia said, wondering if she wouldn’t prefer the Steed Stone.  “Where did you get your bag from?”

“Farengar.”  Rayya said, “From Whiterun.  He makes a fortune selling these all over Tamriel!” 

“I might try and get one that helps with the weight of things too.”  Saadia said, her mind turning to the Steed Stone again.  Armour being weightless would be nice too; it would mean being able to have heavier, and therefore better, armour, and not have it affect her speed in battle. 

She decided not to camp and rest, despite having spent 12 hours to get here to kill one man.

They returned immediately to Hamer’s Shame; running the 12 hours as fast as they could manage.

Saadia was exhausted by the time they approached the statue of Clavicus Vile again, the Rueful Axe, as it was called, in her hands. 

“Ah you’ve got the axe and my dog!”  Clavicus cooed happily, “Splendid.”

“We’re back, now fulfil your end of the bargain.”  Saadia demanded in an unimpressed tone.

“Excellent work!  A hero and his faithful companion retrieving the ancient artefact for the prince it’s almost…”  He searched for the right word, “storybook.”  He said eventually, Saadia sighing and rolling her eyes.  “Ah but it almost seems a shame to give a weapon like that away doesn’t it?”  Clavicus asked Saadia, “I suppose I could be persuaded to let you keep it…”  He offered, but Saadia didn’t want this axe, it wasn’t as powerful as her sword, nor did she want an axe used to so cruelly torture a father, “but only if you use the axe to kill Barbas!  Simple as that.”  Barbas whimpered and backed away; the axe was the only weapon that could kill him.

“He is a truly annoying dog.”  Saadia said, looking at Barbas.

“Wait!”  Barbas said, “There’s another-”

“No deal.”  Saadia said instantly, ignoring Barbas’s words and turning back to the statue.

“Not even going to think about it?”  Clavicus tried tempting her again.

“You’ll have to do your own dirty work Daedra.”  Saadia answered firmly, dropping the axe on the altar, “take the axe and take back Barbas!”

“Humph!  You’re no fun at all!”  Clavicus sulked.  “Guess I’ll have to make my own fun elsewhere…”  And then as if he had just suddenly remembered, “and with the pup back I’ll be restored to my full power!  There’s a whole world just waiting for me!”  He sounded so excited and Barbas barked happily. 

“I knew I could trust you!”  Barbas said to Saadia.  But Saadia glared at the dog not saying anything in reply. 

“Yeah, yeah - dog gets master, master gets cosmic axe - everyone’s happy!  Just get over here mutt!”  Clavicus demanded rudely.

“Don’t worry,” Barbas said to Saadia, “I’ll make sure he sees the light; I trusted you now you trust me.”  He said before suddenly disappearing. 

Saadia didn’t mind his disappearance at all.

But he reappeared as a solid stone dog, next to the stone statue of Clavicus Vile. 

“Ah that feels so much better!”  Clavicus said, celebrating, “You forget how nice supreme power feels like until you’ve been stuck in a cave for a few years.”  He sighed and turned his attention back to Saadia, “Shame you wished for something as dull as me taking back the mutt.  Quite a lack of imagination on your part.”  He noted, “A lack of ambition like that really ought to be punished by perhaps turning you into a worm, or maybe a few decades of-”

“Vile!  None of that - you made a deal, and the mortal stood by it honestly.”  Barbas said sternly, “Now it's your turn to come through.”

“Ugh!  Fine!”  Clavicus said petulantly, “fine have my boon and be done with it.”  Clavicus said as the mask he had been holding suddenly emerged, more human sized, rather than huge statue sized, appearing on the altar.  The axe disappeared and took the place of the masque in the statue’s hand  “Got more interesting deals to be done anyway.”  He said, and then all was silent. 

Saadia waited to see if anything else would be said.  And then let out a breath of relief that this was finally over when nothing else happened.

She went to the altar and picked up the mask; not sure if she should touch a Daedric artefact.  She’d have to find someone to ask about this; was it safe to have, or use?  She was still inspecting the mask when Rayya spoke.

“You know my Thane, I used to really like dogs.”  She said simply and Saadia laughed.

“You’ll be sorry to hear that I have a dog then.”  Saadia answered.  Rayya laughed, shaking her head as she led the way from the cave.

It was night time when they got back to Falkreath, Saadia hoping the inn had a room spare.

When she went into the inn, she saw Lod and went up to him. 

“You know that dog on the road you asked me to get?”  She asked him, slightly aggravated.

“Yeah?”  He sounded so excited and Saadia felt bad for him; he was lonely.

“He ended up being a lot more trouble than he was worth.”  Saadia said simply, deciding to leave it at that. 

“Oh.”  He looked very disappointed, “Anyway its done,” Saadia saw that Nord pride; refusing to show emotion if it was at all possible, “time to move on.”  He told himself, “Much obliged.”  He said to Saadia, and handed her 25 gold pieces, “here, it’s not much but take it anyway.”  He went back to his mead, sitting alone.

“I’ll sit with him.”  Rayya said softly, “Unless you have further need of me right now, my Thane?” 

“No.”  Saadia said, “Sit with him.  Buy him a drink or two.”  She said giving Rayya the coins he’d just given her.  Rayya nodded and turned back to Lod, asking if she might sit with him.

Saadia looked around the inn and saw Dengeir.  Time to have a talk to him about Lod. 

As she walked over to Dengeir, she noticed that gorgeous barmaid, talking with a cleaning maid.

“Narri, do you think the war will ever end?” 

“Tekla honey,” Narri answered as she grabbed some mugs of ale from the bar, “I think the war is just an excuse.  If it does end, there’ll be a new reason, and a new place.” 

“But what about the banning of Talos worship?  Isn’t that worth fighting about?”  Tekla asked.  Narri turned to her a with a cocked eyebrow.

“I don’t know about you Tekla, but all my prayers are silent, and who I pray to is still my own to decide.” 

Narri left Tekla at the bar and went around to the customers, handing out the drinks.  Tekla looked thoughtful; not sure what to make of Narri’s words.

Saadia like Narri even more now. 

She sat down next to Dengeir and after ordering some food with Narri, struck up a conversation with the old man.  He was paranoid, there was no doubt about it, but he came to see reason in the end. 

After a few too many ales, and a hot bath, Saadia slipped into the crisp clean blankets of the inn, ready to sleep-

When Narri slipped into her room…

Another sleepless night.

Saadia didn’t mind one bit.

 

***

 

Saadia stood on the jutting stone and looked down across the valley. 

“Beautiful…”  She could barely breathe the view was so beautiful. 

The ground gave way to a gentle rocky slope all the way down to a huge, glistening lake, the shores of which marked her property line.  Small islands were dotted in the calm blue waters, and beautiful, snow-capped mountains rose on the other side. 

Her land was surrounded with forest and rocky outcrops.  But right here there was a flat piece of land perfect for building a house, and a bit further on, next to a small cottage that was on her land, called Pinewatch, that was being rented by a single man she was yet to meet (whose job it was to keep the land safe), there was an excellent piece of land for farming.  And farming could earn her an income; enough to keep her house in food and her daughter in an excellent education.  She owned a fair amount of the forest around here too – all the way to the road.  She saw some standing stones near the shoreline, on her land.  And a mage touching them, drawing power from them.  More alarming was the presence of an ancient altar between the standing stones.  It meant that this was an ancient place of power. 

“I’ll see to that.”  Rayya said, going down the hill to move the mage on. 

The forest was filled with deer and elk and rabbits and pheasants, there was a small pond with mudcrabs and freshwater fish; and excellent supply of clean drinking water right near the house; Saadia could have it piped into the house…

“Worth every coin.”  She said taking a deep breath of the clear forest air. 

The mage moved on without a fuss, but Saadia had a feeling he’d be back, and eventually she’d have to draw sword against him; for Lucia’s safety. 

“This is a beautiful location, and there’s a lot of land for the coin.”  Rayya noted.  “A lot of it arable.” 

“I’d like to keep as much of the forest as possible.”  Saadia said, looking up at the mountains; the tops of Bleak Falls Barrow were just visible.  She’d be able to point them out and tell stories to Lucia.  Not too frightening stories though!

She thought of having feasts here; inviting her friends and family to come. 

“Lakeview Manor.”  Rayya said softly.

“What?”

“Lakeview Manor, my Thane.”  She repeated, “That’s what you should name your property.”

The next few days were spent getting building supplies together; Nenya was quite useful there, sending orders to local mills for wood on Saadia’s behalf, asking that it be delivered to Saadia’s land. 

And Saadia began building her home; forgetting all of her troubles, all the things she had to do, her responsibilities…

Rayya worked beside her, levelling the land and then laying down a foundation slab of quarried stone.  Saadia had quarried half the stone herself from the surrounding rocky outcrops; working tirelessly.

As they worked, shaping wooden planks from the trees delivered to Saadia’s land, they talked.

“How did you become a housecarl?”  She asked.  “In Skyrim?”

“Not all of us where angry at the Empire for renouncing Hammerfell as a province of the Empire.”  Rayya answered.  Seeing that Saadia didn’t know that history, Rayya explained; “The Great War could not be won.”  She said simply, “When the Empire sued for peace with the Aldmeri Dominion, the Aldmeri Dominion had many demands that the Empire would have to agree to in order to stop the war.  The Empire was weakened, so believed it had no choice but to accept these demands to protect its people from continuing an already devastating war.”  Rayya laid down the basics, “2 of those things were the banning of Talos worship.”

“Which pissed off the Nords.”  Saadia noted.

“And they wanted about half of Hammerfell’s land.”

“Ah…”  Saadia said softly.  “But the Nords and the Redguard are the most warrior like of the Human races…”

“Indeed.”  Rayya agreed, glad that Saadia understood.  “It was a tactic to further weaken the Empire, and many of us could see that, and said we must stand with our brethren in the Empire, and not let them divide us.  But others, the ones in power, decided to continue fighting against the Aldmeri Dominion.  I can understand why; the Aldmeri Dominion were leaving us only the Alik’r desert, taking all of our arable land… we would have had no way of growing our own crops… it would have slowly starved us to death… But I, and many others, had hopes that the Empire was merely gathering its strength to strike again later.  I believed that our honour was dependent on keeping our word to our allies, even through difficult times.  So when we continued fighting, I knew that the Empire would have no choice but to denounce us, and we’d be on our own.  The Empire was too weak to keep fighting, it needed time to gather its strength.”  She said sadly, “So I left my home to come here and fight with the Empire; to help it regain its strength so my homeland could be liberated and be part of the Empire.  Jarl Dengeir took me on, and here I am, with the honour of being your housecarl, my Thane.”

“Why not just join the Legion?”  Saadia asked.

“The Legion is run by Imperials; they are good at keeping order… and running large armies… but it is the Nords and the Redguard, who are the true warriors; I belong with warriors.”  She said, “And I knew that Skyrim would be facing the same problems that Hammerfell did… I knew the civil war would come.  So I had to be here to help as I could.  When Jarl Dengeir was pushed aside by his nephew, I nearly left… I am glad I did not.  To be housecarl to the Dragonborn, is an honour I could not have dreamed of.” 

“Well it’s an honour to have you as my housecarl Rayya.”  Saadia said, “A Nord and a Redguard, as I am, appreciates honour like yours.”

“Thank you, my Thane.”

“I hope you can return home one day though… That we will stop this problem with the Aldmeri Dominion and know peace.” 

“First we must deal with this civil war, and reunite the Empire.”  Rayya said, “And that will be difficult.  The Nords are angry, and the Redguard are bitter; many of us feel betrayed that the Empire would give away our land and then cast us out.”

“There’s definitely some wounds to heal.”  Saadia agreed. 

The house came together slowly, beginning as one small box of a room, Rayya buying a bed and a chest for it.  But Saadia had bigger dreams than that.  A kitchen, a room for Lucia, a library perhaps, some good storage room for all the things she was gathering, a room for Rayya and servants.  She expected this place would end up with dozens of rooms over time… And she wanted a balcony overlooking that view. 

She drew up plans for how she wanted the house to end up, and continued building.

The gathering of building materials was the quest she was on most often nowadays.  It was expensive; and she was chewing through the gold she had made from that whole Clavicus Vile thing.  She’d sent half of it to Lydia and Lucia via courier, but even so, she’d had a lot leftover.  But now… she was running low again.

She started going to Riverwood for supplies, rather than Falkreath, even though this land was in Falkreath Hold and Riverwood was in Whiterun Hold, because the people of Riverwood always gave her better prices and Riverwood was very close.

She was pleasantly surprised to find that the mill, just outside of town, was run by Ralof’s family.  They had heard of her from Ralof, and they gave her exceptional deals, including giving the wood to her for free if she cut it herself. 

Within a few weeks, Saadia had the shell of a Manor house up, a huge balcony spanning three of the walls, with expansive views over the lake and surrounding forests. 

She put in some blacksmithing tools; a smelter and grindstone, to help with making better weapons.  Alvor had been teaching her a lot and she wanted to try her hand at making weapons.  Perhaps she could sell them to help make some money to run this homestead. 

She put in some stables, with a good-sized apartment above them for the stable-hand she’d have to hire when she got a horse.

She put in an apiary for honey; she loved honey. 

Saadia put in a place for a small garden, some chickens, a cow… She had to stop herself from going overboard – the whole inside of the house was currently empty!

She quite suddenly realised that she’d need someone to help her run this place.  She’d be getting the farmland between her house and the Pinewatch cottage producing food as soon as possible, and she couldn’t be here all the time to monitor that. 

And she’d need security to look after this home; it wasn’t in a city like Breezehome was; there were no guards out here.  She looked at Rayya and knew she’d have to leave her here to look after this house and her land.  But first she needed… a steward!

She supposed she could checkout the man in Pinewatch cottage; that cottage was supposed to be the caretaker’s cottage.  If he seemed capable of this job, she could let him stay? 

So Saadia headed towards his cottage; only just within sight of her manor through the trees. 

It was a beautiful little cottage; with a lovely garden growing some vegetables and herbs, a well-use wood cutting block by the front door, a good pile of wood to keep the fire burning, the smoke rising from the chimney. 

“Hello?”  She knocked on the door and the door creaked open ominously.  “Oh no.”  She said and Rayya unsheathed her scimitars.  Saadia could only hope that she’d find the man happily sitting by the fire, just having forgotten to close his door properly…

But the cottage appeared to be empty.  They went downstairs and found it empty as well.  There was a note on the table and Saadia read it. 

It turned out that bandits had been using this house as a front for some sort of illegal activity. 

Saadia shook her head.  Not anymore they wouldn’t – not on her land.

She noticed that there was a mention of some wine left as a bonus… behind the bookshelf?

Saadia looked at the bookshelf – it was against the wall. 

And then she saw a small button under the table next to the bookshelf.  She shook her head; sneaky. 

She pressed it. 

The bookshelf swung open to reveal a tunnel dug in the bedrock leading down, a crate of wine right behind the bookshelf.  Saadia picked up the wine and put it on the table before heading down the tunnel; she was going to get these bandits off her land.  Right now.  

When she got to the bottom of the tunnel it opened up into a huge cavern, but the stench of decaying flesh made the air close and heavy.  She looked out over the cavern and saw a huge pile of caravans and barrows… from travelling traders… and hundreds of dead bodies piled high on the floor, and on the high ledge she was on - shelves of goods meticulously sorted out into like goods; food here, potions there, clothes and armour over there, weapons on yet another shelf, further sorted by type, swords, axes, hammers, daggers… There was a series of wooden bridges from one rock ledge to another; letting the bandits stay above the decay of the rotting caravans and decaying bodies.  Each of the rock ledges had doors, and Saadia knew there would be rooms carved into the rock, with even more stolen goods in them. 

“By the Gods…”  Saadia stared around the cavern.  The bandits must have been waylaying innocent travelling traders for years, killing them, bringing their goods here and slowly selling them off.  They must be making a fortune.

Saadia was going to kill every single one of them. 

As soon as she stepped out onto the bridge 2 bandits noticed her and ran at her, swords held high.  She killed both of them before Rayya had even had a chance to get out her bow and arrows. 

“Angry are we, my Thane?”  Rayya asked, eyeing the dead bodies.  “Me too.” 

As they moved on, Saadia saw that this was obviously an old Nordic ruin, now completely ransacked and modified for this operation. 

More bandits saw them.

“You picked a bad time to get lost friend!”  A bandit said as he unsheathed his sword.

“I’m not lost.”  Saadia answered; “I own this place!”  She sliced him in half, his fur armour no match for her Sky Forge greatsword. 

As they went deeper into the bandit lair, they found cages where traders that had survived the attacks had been imprisoned; there were none there now, but signs of the degradation and suffering these people had endured were all around. 

And the sheer amount of wealth the bandits had made was also obvious… rooms upon rooms of things, stored up.  Saadia didn’t even know where to begin with all of this stuff.  She supposed she’d have to clear out all the dead bodies and all of this stuff from these ruins and seal them off.  Perhaps leaving just the top section open as a cellar for the new steward she’d have to find.  But selling of all of these things would keep her house solvent for years… But then she thought of all the dead merchants in the first room – maybe she should try to find all of their families and return this merchandise to them?

As she looked, in awe at the sheer quantity of merchandise they’d stolen, she saw a strange, bright pink gem in a golden box.  The box open, the gem seeming to float above it, spinning on the spot lazily.  Saadia picked it up, wondering what this gem was.  She put it in her satchel, deciding to ask someone about it; if she could figure out just who to ask about such a gem. 

As they got deeper into the ruins, dead draugr littered the hallways, along with a few fallen bandits, left to rot where they’d fallen. 

She found a letter on one of the bandits; apparently a couple of them were planning on robbing the treasure room and heading off to Hammerfell. 

“No honour among thieves.”  Rayya said when Saadia showed her the letter.

And just a little further on; a warning from the chief bandit to her minions not to try getting into her treasure room; she’d already killed some people about this, was hanging from the wall; a dagger keeping it held up. 

“Looks like this operation wouldn’t have lasted much longer.”  Saadia said.

“Glad we could finish it up sooner, my Thane.”  Rayya answered as they came upon the sleeping quarters. 

They’d even set up a bar down here; filled with bottles of mead and ale and wine… it was like a mini city down here.

There were about a dozen bandits in this part of the ruins, but the two women finished them off easily; Saadia even had time to stop and admire Rayya’s technique with dual wielding her scimitars.  A free-flowing, graceful and brutally efficient killing technique.  She sliced open one bandit’s stomach, spun on the spot to slice the bandit behind her before kicking a third bandit in the jaw, all in the same fluid movement.  The whole thing was finished by her swiftly bringing her scimitars together – the third bandit’s neck just happened to be between them.  He was decapitated.  But as his head fell to the ground, Rayya kicked it at a fourth bandit, who caught the head in surprise… he never saw Rayya’s sword coming – it pierced his skull like a hot knife in butter. 

“She’s good.”  Saadia admired.  Maybe there was something to be said for smaller weapons?  Either way, she could learn a few things from Rayya. 

They found the chief of the bandits and killed her, Saadia beheading her in one sweep of her greatsword despite her heavy armour; there was a lot to say for heavy weapons too. 

The treasure room was not far from the chief’s room, there was a few traps; all floor traps, and easily avoided if you knew what you were looking for.  Saadia knew what she was looking for.  There was tens of thousands of gold coins, gems and gold bars in the treasure room.  Enough to keep Lucia in food for the next year, easily. 

Saadia nearly cried in relief; she hadn’t realised how much pressure the money situation had been putting on her until it was so suddenly lifted. 

When they came back out to the cottage; every bandit dead, Saadia looked around.  It was a nice cottage, good kitchen, great fireplace and a nice quality table for meals, a good wardrobe, decent quality shelving.  There was a bed upstairs and a bed downstairs with a lot of room for food storage.  It was simple and clean.  Saadia could have the water piped to it, and there was an outhouse she had built that they could share, or perhaps they’d want their own.  She decided that after she’d gotten all the merchandise out of the ruins and removed all the rotting corpses of the traders and given them a proper burial, she’d seal this wall and leave the ruins alone, making this cottage a nice, simple and safe home for a steward for her manor. 

She would pay the steward a small wage, but they would have a home and all the food and water they needed.  It wouldn’t be a bad job for the right person. 

 

***

 

“Faendal and I had sex!”  Camilla declared in an excited whisper as soon as Saadia saw her.  They were standing just outside Riverwood General Goods; Camilla sweeping the balcony to the store her brother owned, but she practically ran.  Rayya cleared her throat and took a few steps back, staring off down the street to give them some privacy.  “We’re engaged!”

“By the Gods that’s good news!”  Saadia said and gave Camilla a hug.  “When is the wedding?”  And Camilla’s face dropped.

“It could be a while.”  She said, “He has family in Valenwood who want to come, and I have family in Cyrodiil who… will need convincing that this is a good thing…”  She sighed, “At least Lucan is on my side.  But he is worried about the store suffering once I’m married.  He says I’ll have wifely duties to attend to – and I can’t wait to attend to some wifely duties!”  She said suggestively.

“He’ll have to learn to get by, won’t he?”  Saadia shrugged and Camilla nodded.

“Oh Saadia, he was wonderful.”  Camilla said, “I was so worried and all for nothing!” 

“Tell me everything.”  Saadia said, sitting her down on the stairs. 

“Well, I told him that I wasn’t like other women, and he said that he was aware of that.  And I told him that I don’t just mean my stunning beauty and wonderful personality.”  She giggled at herself, “And he asked ‘Camilla, how long have I been trying to court you?’  And I said, ‘oh at least 2 years… since you got here really.’  And he says to me ‘About 2 weeks after I first called on you, all those years ago… I was hunting in the woods, and I saw the most beautiful, buxom lass I’d ever seen, bathing in the river… I knew I shouldn’t look… but I did…’”  Camilla blushed, “He already knew Saadia.”  She said, “It made no difference to his affection for me.” 

“I am so happy for you.”

“I practically threw him on my bed…”  Camilla bit her button lip, “I was such a wonton hussy!”  She laughed, “We had wonderful sex, and he asked me to marry him.  And I said yes!”  Camilla laughed happily, “Oh what was I ever worried about?” 

“That even though there’s lots of women like you, people would still be a horker’s arse to someone who was different to what is most common…”  Saadia answered simply.  “Because so many people in your life, including your own family, have been.”

“Oh that’s right!”  Camilla laughed and then instantly frowned.  “I don’t know what I’m going to do about them and the wedding.”

“You’ll figure it out.”

“And we’re going to adopt!”  Camilla said, “Once we have a nice little cottage of our own.  I can’t stay with my brother, and Faendal’s home is nice, but not really big enough for a child…”  She sighed, “We’ll figure it out.”  But Saadia suddenly had an idea.

“Camilla… I need a steward for my manor home.”  She said, “You’d get a wage, and a nice cottage, and all your food and water… and security.”

“You want to hire me?”

“Yes.”  Saadia said, “And I know you want to run a store of your own; so you could be responsible for selling the extra produce the estate creates.  Between you and Faendal, I think you’d run the house perfectly.”

“By the Gods…”  Camilla put a hand over her mouth.

“You could move in after you’re married, because the house is far from finished, and there won’t be any farming this season anyway.”  Saadia said, “So it’ll actually work out well for both of us.”

Camilla threw her arms around Saadia’s shoulders.

“Thank you!”  She cried.

“So yes?”

“Yes!  I’ll take the job!” 

“Great!”  Saadia felt happy she’d sorted that problem out, “You two will have to come and have a look at the place so you can sort out with me how it’s going to be run.”

“When w-”

There was a loud roar and the guard walking down the street nearby jumped and looked up at the sky.

“No…”  Saadia whispered, “Not here.”  She fervently hoped… wished…

But a huge black shadow rose beyond the mill owned by Ralof’s family, roared and breathed ice down on the people working there – one of whom was Faendal.

“Rayya, protect the children!”  Saadia ordered and Rayya spun around to see the Dragon, her hands grabbing a boy that had been about to run past her, hoisting him up onto her hip and then turning to look for other children.

“Yes, my Thane.”  She said instantly. 

The Dragon roared again and spewed forth its icy breath, hitting the roof of the mill and the fleeing people. 

“FAENDAL!”  Camilla cried and jumped to her feet.

 

 

 


	12. Part 12

 

 

“Stay back!”  Saadia said to Camilla, jumping up and running towards the mill, the Dragon circling round to take aim again. 

As she neared the bridge near Alvor’s blacksmith she saw Alvor jumping the railing to his balcony, a mace held over his head.  “No, no, no!”  Saadia pleaded. 

Gerder the mill owner threw a chopping axe at the Dragon as it rained down ice on Faendal, who shot precise arrows at the beast.  Gerder picked up another axe and threw it, lodging it in the hard scales on the side of the Dragon’s neck.  Her husband Hod ran to find another wood chopping axe for her.

“DORTHE RUN!”  Sigrid screamed at her daughter, before picking up a sword from her husband’s work table and jumping the railing too. 

Hadvar came running with the guards, the guards loosing arrows as they ran, Hadvar drawing his sword, his eyes never leaving the Dragon.

“Sigrid, get back!”  Saadia said as she passed the woman, “We’ll need your healing skills!”  Saadia pulled her bow out and prayed to Kynareth that the skills she’d learned with Kodlak and Aela wouldn’t fail her now.  She needed more than a few lucky shots.  Camilla ran beside her, as fast as she could, terrified for Faendal. 

Saadia took aim and shot the beast in its eye.  It roared and spun around mid-flight to find her.  She let fly another 5 arrows in quick succession, punching holes in its leathery wings, and then when it was directly above her;

“YOL!”  She Shouted, aiming her fire away from the villagers. 

Camilla, still beside Saadia, fell to her knees in fright; she hadn’t expected to see a gout of fire coming from her friend’s mouth. 

The Dragon roared and zeroed in on Saadia, obviously forgetting the villagers.  The wooden handle of the axe sticking out of its neck burned, and Saadia put another arrow through its eye.  But it was protecting its other eye, so she couldn’t blind it. 

The Dragon was pissed off now. 

“Good.”  Saadia whispered and ran hard, wanting to guide the Dragon past the mill and away from the town.  The Dragon followed, blasting her with ice and slowing her down. 

When she got to Faendal he was half frozen and his eyes were glazed over; the normally black orbs glowing gold. 

“Oh Faendal, hold on.”  She stopped and put a healing potion in his hand.

“I am fine friend.”  He said in a calm voice.  “I am calling upon the birds…” 

“Wha-?”  She kept her eyes on the Dragon as it circled around and continued to put arrows through its wings; she needed to bring it down. 

“It’s an old Wood Elf trick.”  He said softly, “We can commune with nature…”

She heard an eagle cry and turned to see a large bird flying in from the mountains with breakneck speed.  Saadia watched in surprise as the eagle dive-bombed the dragon – although it was 1000 times the size of the bird.  But the eagle picked its shot and aimed for the Dragon’s good eye, ripping it from its socket.  And suddenly other birds appeared; hundreds of them.  She turned back to Faendal, the glow in his eyes growing stronger, his breathing longer and deeper as he focussed more, sinking deeper into the energy of the earth, tapping into the ancient Magicks. 

The birds all dive-bombed the Dragon as it screeched, unable to see.

“It’s gonna come down.”  Saadia swapped put her bow back in its holster on her back and unsheathed her greatsword, running past the mill, hoping the Dragon wouldn’t land on the building; Gerder and Hod were there, Gerder taking aim with another axe. 

The Dragon crashed to earth only metres from the mill, roaring and enraged; blind and frantic, lashing out at everything and nothing.  And the birds kept attacking; a black swirling mass around the Dragon. 

Saadia ran into the mass, the birds parting for her, giving her passage to do her work.  She swung at the Dragon’s snout and it Shouted pure ice at her, she dove out of the way, but dozens of birds fell.  She stabbed at its head from the side, leaving an open gash along its head and neck.  But it lashed out at her with its jaws.  The guards were shooting arrows from a distance and one of them hit Saadia’s armour.

“Great.”  She muttered as she dodged another blast of ice. 

And then Hadvar was there, his sword out, roaring with a pent up rage he’d felt since the attack on Helgen. 

“DIE DRAGON!”  He screamed at it.

“MOVE!”  Saadia said and he instinctively dodged left.  “YOL!”  Saadia Shouted, aiming her voice away from Hadvar.  The Dragon’s open wound started to crackle and burn, the Dragon screeching in pain and outrage, snapping at her with its jaws, Hadvar swinging his sword back down on its thick hide.

This was the battle that taught Saadia that every Dragon was different.  Had this been the Dragon that Alduin had raised outside of Kynesgrove, her little trick of stabbing it through the skull would not have worked; this Dragon’s skull was too thick. 

Hadvar slashed at its face again, giving it a twin gash on the other side of its face to where Saadia had cut it. 

She used its snout to jump up onto its head, ran along its neck and onto its back.

“UNCLE STAY BACK!”  Hadvar yelled.

“NOT BLOODY LIKELY!”  Alvor roared and started hitting the Dragon, Camilla beside him, tearing at its open wounds with her bare hands.  “YOU COME TO MY TOWN!”  Alvor roared at the Dragon, “AND THREATEN MY DAUGHTER AND WIFE!”

“DIE!”  Camilla was screaming, her teeth grit against the blood and fury of the Dragon.

It let forth another burst of ice, half catching Alvor who fell to the ground.

“Camilla, get my uncle out of here!”  Hadvar ordered and she obeyed, dragging him away from the Dragon, towards Faendal, still deep in the Magicks, calling more and more birds, and now wolves and bears were running towards the Dragon, throwing themselves against its stony hide.  His body was heating up, practically sizzling with the power of the earth Magicks he was tapping into, and the ice trapping him was melting.

Hadvar pushed his sword deep into the Dragon’s empty eye socket and lost his sword when the Dragon swung its head violently.  So he, like Camilla had, resorted to using his bare hands to tear at the Dragon’s wounds.  But the Dragon scales were thick as rock, and his fingers got cut up and his nails broken down to the quick, just as Camilla’s had. 

Saadia stood on the back of the giant beast, feeling its heart beating through its rib cage.  She ran her hands along its skin, feeling the bumps of the ribs and the rhythm of its heart.  She closed her eyes, focussed her mind to a single still and quiet point, took a deep breath and kneeling, raised her sword above her head, the tip facing down.

She brought the sword down, piercing the Dragons thick skin and slicing through it flesh, slipping between its ribs and piercing its heart.  The Dragon bucked and roared, and Saadia pushed her greatsword deeper, getting elbow deep into the flesh of the beast, twisting the blade and reefing it out of the wound, a huge gout of blood spurting out instantly, washing her red with the death of the beast.  It collapsed onto its side, a soft whimper.

“Dovahkiin…”  It whispered before its life ended. 

Saadia plonked down on its back and shook the blood from her hands before attempting to wipe some of it from her face; she was literally dripping in Dragon blood.  She could hear the villagers cheering triumphantly.  Hadvar was literally leaping for joy. 

The Dragon was dead.

And then the burn began; the body of the Dragon seeming to turn to ash all around her, burning up, the light rushing from the Dragon and slamming itself into her.  It was still as blissful as the first time and she sat atop the Dragon feeling its body cave in beneath her, its life force entering her, with her eyes closed and a smile on her face.  When it was done she emerged from the skeleton of the Dragon, most of the townsfolk from Whiterun staring at her with awe, Alvor holding his frosted arm at the feet of Faendal who was embracing Camilla, the ice now melted.  The animals that could leave were leaving, Faendal having silently given them his thanks.  He would heal those he could; calling on the earth Magicks again, and give a swift death to those that could not be healed, and their meat would be used in tonight’s celebration feast. 

“In all my years I’ve never seen anything like that…”  Sigrid whispered, her eyes going from the skeleton to Saadia. 

“The rumours are true.”  Faendal said, “You really are Dragonborn.” 

“Sigrid.”  Saadia said, “Your husband needs your skill.”  Sigrid nodded and ran to her house to get supplies of potions and herbs.

“I didn’t know they could breathe ice.”  Hod said looking at the skeleton. 

“We’re going to have to move this thing to get back to work.”  Gerder said.  “But now it’s time to celebrate!” 

Sigrid knelt by Alvor, tending his wounds.  Faendal handed him the healing potion Saadia had given him, and Alvor swallowed it, his blackened, frostbitten hand slowly becoming purple, then deep blue, then pale blue as the potion worked. 

“That’s a good strong potion.”  Sigrid said gratefully; she’d been worried that this injury was beyond her skill, but the potion had healed over half of the damage. 

“How did you survive that?”  Camilla asked Faendal breathlessly.

“I took your advice about getting frost resistant clothing.”  He had been complaining of the cold Skyrim nights.  Camilla laughed and threw her arms around his neck, “I believe I’ll always take your advice.”  He said as he held her tightly, “But your hands.”  He whispered, gently letting her go and taking her hands into his.  “They need healing.”  He told her.

“I thought it had killed you.”  Camilla said, “I wanted to rip it apart.”

Saadia enjoyed their kiss for a moment before looking around at the damage.  The mill would need some work; it had caught some of the ice and had cracked violently in some places.  Probably the whole roof of the log processing shed would need replacing.  Given that the shed had no walls, it would be an easy repair.  And no one had died.

Saadia felt a swell of relief and leaned her hands on her knees to take a moment to be thankful and to choke back the thankful tears. 

Hadvar stared at her in wonder; many of the villagers were still doing the same.  Gerder was organising a celebration already, and the guards had returned to their patrolling, but everyone else was staring at Saadia, or the Dragon skeleton, or the damage done by the attack. 

“You killed the Dragon.”  Hadvar said, “Dragonborn… I’m friends with the Dragonborn!”  He said happily, looking like he might faint from shock, and Alvor roared with laughter. 

Another cheer went up; the Dragon was dead, and for now they would celebrate.  Let tomorrow take care of itself.

Orgnar brought ale and mead from the inn for everyone, an impromptu party began on the grass in front of the skeleton.  Some of the men digging out a pit to get a fire going; so they could cook some meat.  Hod and Gerder rolled some round tree sections around for seats; the village was set for the rest of the day.

Saadia had never seen such bravery and fighting spirit; they knew it could have been worse, there could have been deaths.  They knew there would be more Dragons… and they drank, and celebrated this one small victory, Alvor starting up a song, and everyone joining in. 

While everyone sang, Saadia focussed her attention to within herself.  She allowed the energy and power from the Dragon soul to flow to the inert word she had within herself; and she suddenly knew how to say it.  It was Kaan.  The Dragon word for Kyne.  With this Shout she could bring peace to animals; stop them from attacking her or fleeing from her.  She knew as well the name of the Shout; Kyne’s Peace.  Kyne, the great lover of nature, had gifted them with a Shout to keep the peace within nature. 

She looked over to Faendal and Camilla, sitting together on the grass now, a mead in his hand, talking happily together, Sigrid tending to Camilla’s hands. 

She loved this little village, and all the people in it. 

Her thoughts turned to home; to Lucia and the Companions and Lydia.  She did miss home.  But she wasn’t ready to go back yet.  Not with the death of Caiche still weighing so heavily on her.  That death had brought back too many memories of Stirk.  She couldn’t look her daughter in the eye yet. 

She also had the thought that this town was just as close to Lakeview Manor as Falkreath was; this would be a nice place for Lucia to visit with Lydia. 

“You saved us all Saadia!”  Alvor said loudly and the whole town cheered.  “By Ysmir, if-” But he stopped himself.  “By Ysmir… it’s an old Nord saying… but you ARE Ysmir.”  He said, slowly shaking his head and taking that in, “I’m friends with a living legend, a God… I have held her to me like my own kin…”  He said, staring off, completely in shock.  The whole town staring at Saadia. 

“We are kin Alvor.”  Saadia said and gave him a huge hug. 

“I think you’re kin to everyone in Riverwood now.”  Sigrid said and there was a cheer of agreement. 

Saadia grinned happily at her kin, remembering a time when she had just wanted to be anonymous, and realising she had finally left that behind; she’d had no choice.  She looked around the happy faces in the crowd.  And in amongst them there was one scowling face, glaring at her.

“Except Sven.”  Saadia noted quietly to herself.

 

***

 

Saadia spent a few days helping Alvor in his forge while he healed; Dorthe also helped.  She had decided she wanted to be a blacksmith when she grew up. 

She also asked a very important favour of Hadvar: if he was willing to help with the clean-up of Pinewatch cottage.  He agreed that identifying the traders and trying to return the merchandise, or some money to the families would be the right thing to do.  They agreed to head out to the property in a few weeks’ time; Hadvar had to go to Solitude to report this attack and to ask the Imperial army to send some backup for the Hold guards.  He pointed out that Saadia wouldn’t always be there to stab a Dragon in the heart when Sigrid had asked him if he really had to go. 

And Saadia began to ache in her bones for home.

Regardless of whether she was ready or not, she had to go home; she missed it too much.

Delphine had asked her to check out if the closest burial mound was empty, and Rayya had volunteered to go and do that; understanding that her Thane needed to go home.  So Saadia was alone when she set off after dusk, meaning to get into Whiterun at night so she could have the night to gather herself before seeing everyone.  Rayya would meet her there in a day or 2.

She didn’t run fast; the air was heavy with spring blossoms, and night was warm, huge white-winged moths fluttered around and glow-bugs hovered in the trees - the world was just too beautiful to rush.  She picked flowers, knowing Arcadia would want them for her alchemy, but feeling the desire to dry them at home; to have some colour in the sitting room.

Up ahead she saw a darker patch on the road ahead.  As she got closer she could see it was blood.  A lot of blood. 

She approached cautiously and saw several dead wolves and a blood trail leading off into the bushes.  Someone or something had dragged itself away.

Saadia knew that even though the blood was dry, she had to see who it was, to offer help if she could; if they were still alive.  The moons were full and bright; she’d be able to follow the trail…

She left the road and followed the dry blood trail, quietly unsheathing her sword, ready for whatever she might find.

“By the Gods, you got yourself a long way off the road…”  She muttered as she continued up into a rocky outcrop quite a distance from the road. 

She saw a dead sabercat, its tawny fur covered with blood, its intestines hanging out.  It was dead, its paw reached out towards a cave, its eyes staring blankly towards the cave.  Flies buzzed around and maggots were crawling all over the intestines.  The sabercat had been dead for some time.

Saadia understood; the wolves had tried to take down the sabercat for food but in the end both the pack and the sabercat had died.  She looked closer at the magnificent beast and saw its engorged teats.

“Oh no…”  She realised why the sabercat had dragged itself all this distance.

And Saadia heard it; a weak mewling coming from the cave.

The mother sabercat had tried to get back to her cubs; knowing her milk would keep them for a week, even after her death.  And then her decaying body might tempt them to eat meat, possibly too early, but maybe not… She’d known it was their only hope.

She went in the cave; a small shallow den. 

There were 3 dead cubs; died of starvation.  And one tiny little cub left, barely able to meow at her for food. 

“Oh…”  She sighed and picked her up gently.  “Alright little one.”  She said taking out her water bottle and giving the poor cub some water.  It lapped at the water eagerly, but Saadia knew that this wouldn’t satisfy its hunger.  “I better get you home.”  She whispered to it, taking out a spare tunic and wrapping it around the cub, then taking out her linen pants and making a sling for the cub so it was close to her chest. 

Saadia set off at a run for home.

When she got home, she quietly opened her door to see the Wolf brothers sitting in front of her fire.  Lucia asleep on Farkas’s lap, Vilkas with a pile of books beside him, and a tankard of ale; they were talking quietly and they both looked up when she came in. 

“Where’s Lydia?”  She asked. 

“Just drawing some water.”  Vilkas answered; the water barrel inside needed buckets of water brought in from the piping outside so they had access to water inside.  “You’ve been gone for a long time.”  He added.  She nodded and looked over at Farkas who hadn’t taken his eyes off her, Lucia curled up asleep in is arms, her legs hanging down the side of his lap, her head on his chest. 

“Have we got any milk in the house?”  She asked and showed them the little cub.  Vilkas sighed but Farkas grinned.

“You have got to stop taking in strays.”  Vilkas said and got up.  He left through the front door without another word. 

“He’s in a bit of a mood.”  Saadia said, realising he was annoyed at her.  She sat down in his seat and held the sleeping cub close.  She looked down at the books; all children’s books.

“I think he’s just…”  Farkas paused, “Lucia’s struggled this past month without you.”  Farkas said. 

“He thinks you’ll both have to look after the cub too.”  She understood and looked around.  “Where’s Meeko?”

“Outside with Lydia.”  Farkas said, “Eorlund rigged up a harness for him so she can put buckets of water on his back; bring in twice as much water at a time.” 

“My new house has piped water.”  Saadia said softly.  “But only one bed…”

“New house?” 

“I’ll show you later.”  She said.  “What’s happening here?”  She pointed at Lucia and the then the books.

“She’s been having nightmares since the vampire attack.”  Farkas explained.

“Vampire attack?  Here?”  Saadia felt her pulse speed up.

“Yeah, 5 guards died and Njada got infected.”  He said, “We got Arcadia to make a cure disease potion for her though, so she’s alright.  Problem is Lucia saw it all.  One of the vampires tried to take her.”

“By the Gods.”  Saadia felt a well of panic in her heart.  “How could this happen in the city?”

“They stormed the gates with 2 big stone gollums.”  Farkas said, “broke right through them.  They’ve been fixed and reinforced now.  And there’s more guards on duty.  And the Companions do patrols of the city and the walls now.  We also have 8 new members.”

“8?”  Saadia asked.  “In a month?” 

“Got a whole bunch when we killed the vampires; going to need to make new rooms for them all.”  Farkas said.  “I got a new scar from that battle.”  He nodded slowly, “And Lucia hasn’t been alright since.” 

“I’m so sorry I haven’t been here.”

“You can’t be everywhere at once.”  Farkas said, “She’s been afraid the vampires had killed you, or were going to kill you… It’s been rough.” 

“Thank you for taking care of her.”

“Turns out the only thing that could get her to sleep was Vilkas and me.”  He said with a shrug. 

“Why didn’t I hear about any of this?”  She asked shaking her head, “I would have come back sooner if-”

The door opened and Vilkas came back in with a jug of milk.

“Give her here.”  He said gently and Saadia realised that he wasn’t actually annoyed with her at all. 

“Come on little one.”  He said softly, rubbing its sides gently before putting a little milk on his fingertip.  The cub drank it eagerly.  “This won’t give her all the nutrients she needs; we’ll have to ask Arcadia about a potion to help with that…”

“Or somehow steal some sabercat milk.”  Farkas chuckled and Lucia stirred.  “Sshh…”  He said softly to her.

“Mama?”  She whispered softly. 

“She’s safe.”  Farkas said, “She’s home.”

“Mama?”  She was instantly awake and turned to look around the room.  “MAMA!”  She jumped from Farkas’s lap and threw herself at Saadia, who caught the girl easily, holding her in a tight embrace. 

“I’m sorry I’ve been away so long.”  Saadia whispered to her.

“It’s alright mama, you said you’d be away for a while.”

“I know.”  Saadia said, “But I missed you so much.”  She held the girl tightly, “And Farkas tells me there were vampires?”  She asked looking at Lucia to see her reaction.  The girl nodded slowly, her eyes still filled with fear.  Saadia pulled the wooden training sword from her satchel.  “You’ll start sword training tomorrow.”  Saadia said, “This sword will allow you to practice your moves on the straw training dummy in your room, without cutting it up like those little daggers did.”  She said, “But we’ll see about getting you a real sword when you’re ready.”

“Really?”  Lucia asked excitedly.

“Really.  The best way to not be afraid of vampires, is to know how to kill them.”  Saadia said, “And to have the skill to do it.”  Lucia nodded solemnly, “Lucia honey, it’s okay to be afraid sometimes, you just have to face it and not let it stop you.” 

“Alright mama.”  She said, slowly nodding her head. 

“No go to bed, it’s late.”

“But you just got home!” 

“I’ll be home for a few days, and tomorrow I’m going to take you to the river, and we’ll have a picnic, and we’ll spend the whole day there, alright?”

“Can Lydia come too?”

“Of course!”

“And Vilkas and Farkas?”

“If they want to.”

“And can we fish?”

Saadia looked up at Vilkas who gave a shrug.

“If you’re willing to teach me.”  Saadia answered. 

“I’ll teach you!”  Lucia was excited by that idea. 

“Alright, to bed.  I’ll send Meeko in when he’s-”

“Is that a kitty?”  She asked, seeing the sabercat cub in Vilkas’s arms.

“I’d hardly call it a kitty…”  Vilkas mumbled to himself. 

“Yes.”  Saadia said slowly, “It’s a sabercat cub.”

“Wow…”  She got up and looked at the cub, still drinking milk from Vilkas’s fingers.  “Are we keeping her.”

“Of course!”  Vilkas said, managing to contain most of his sarcasm. 

“Can we call her Tarryn?”  Lucia asked.

“Sure.”  Saadia said.  “But we’re not sure if she’ll survive yet.  She’s very weak.” 

“Can I help?”  Lucia asked gently stroking Tarryn’s belly.

“Yes, but not tonight.”  Saadia answered, “Bed.”

“Alright mama.”  Lucia answered and gave them all a goodnight kiss before heading to her room. 

“Thank you both.”  She said softly.

“FARKAS CAN YOU CHECK UNDER THE BED?”  Lucia called through loudly.  “PLEASE?”

“I’m coming.”  He said and got up and kissed Saadia deeply, “This’ll take a while.”  He warned and stretched as he went to Lucia’s room.  She’d have him search practically the whole room twice before she could sleep. 

“I understand why you were away for so long, but I’m not sure that Lucia does.”  Vilkas said softly. 

“Do you understand?”  She asked in a scant whisper. 

“Perhaps.”  He said in a measured tone.

“When you told me that you love the Beastblood, you told me a truth about yourself that you've never told anyone else.”  She said and he nodded.

“Aye.”  He admitted.

“Why did you tell me?”  She asked and Vilkas paused; he hadn’t really thought about it.

“It needed to be said out loud.”  He answered, “I needed to say it out loud.”  He clarified, “And honestly you needed to hear the truth… At least I thought you did.”

“Well I have a truth now that needs to be heard out loud.”  Saadia said, an ache in her chest; she needed someone to look at her and tell her she wasn’t evil.  “A truth I need to say out loud… And I think, maybe, you’re the only one who can understand....”  She lowered her eyes.  “When I killed Caiche…”  She said and Vilkas nodded slowly; he had known it would be about this.  “I told her I was Dragonborn – I gave her my word to protect her son as Dragonborn… and she… She thought I was a living God… the reincarnation Talos.  And she stood before me… ready to die at the hands of her God.”

“You’ll get that.”  Vilkas said as he gently laid the cub to sleep by the fire, “Some people are going to think you’re Talos reincarnated.”  He didn’t know what else to say; it was more than a little rough to have had to kill a person who thought you were their God.  But it wasn’t something he could really understand.

“That’s not it Vilkas…”  She said, “The worst part is that I didn’t care.”  She stared at the ground, her face burning with shame and fear; what would they think of her.  “Kodlak said that a good person should pause before killing an unarmed person…. No part of me paused.  I felt a moment of sadness, but then I remembered what she was, and I was glad she was dead.”  Saadia knew why she hadn’t paused… she knew she couldn’t tell him everything about her – then he’d never look at her the same way.  None of them would. 

“I think the words of our parents, or in your case, parental figures,” Saadia looked up at him sharply, “Can have more of an impact on us than we like to admit.” 

But wasn’t that the truth?  Hadn’t she almost felt a kind of daughterly love for Kodlak since the moment she first met him…?  And didn’t he feel like a father to her…?  She’d tried to push it down, but it persisted nonetheless. 

“You have nothing to be ashamed about, Dovahkiin.”  Vilkas said firmly.  “You did what had to be done.  To protect your family.  Not just the Companions, but Lucia too.”  He looked her square in the eye, “If the Silver-Hand were willing to kill the child of one of their own, imagine what they’d have done to her.”  He knelt down in front of her and put a hand on her shoulder.  “I’d have killed her too.  And I wouldn’t have paused either.  Being armed doesn’t always just mean having a sword right here and now…” 

She stared into his eyes and saw the truth of his words.  She took a deep breath.  Somehow, that was exactly what she had needed to hear.

“I told you you’d understand.”  She said with a shaky laugh.  He chuckled.

“And you’ve always got to be right Shield-sister.”  He said and got up. 

“That’s right.”  She said, “You know, I didn’t come home for so long because I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to look you in the eye.”  She said.

“What?”  Vilkas asked.

“I mean everyone’s eyes.”  Saadia clarified and he nodded.

“Ah!”  He laughed, “I see.  You mean you as in everyone. Not…”

“Yeah not…”

She looked down at the ground and he checked on the cub.

Lydia came in with Meeko whining but wagging his tail, trailing behind her. 

“Honoured to see you again, my Thane!”  She said, breathlessly. 

“Let me help.”  Saadia said, grabbing 2 of the 4 huge buckets Lydia was hauling.  “Is the piping outside still slow?”

“Yes, my Thane.”  Lydia answered.

“I’ll talk to Proventus about getting that fixed.”  They went over to the water barrel, Meeko trailing behind them, and poured the buckets into it.  When they had finished she looked up at Lydia.  “You look tired.”  She said and Lydia nodded.

“I’ve been staying awake most nights, to guard Lucia.”

“The vampires.”  They both looked across the room and through the open door to Lucia’s bedroom, Farkas had lifted up the whole bed and was looking at the floor where it had been, Lucia giggling. 

“The vampires.”  Lydia nodded.

“Go get some sleep.”  Saadia said, “I’ve got a sleepless night looking after a sabercat cub ahead of me anyway.”

“A sabre-?”  Lydia sighed, “Yes, my Thane.”  She simply said and went in to say goodnight to Lucia before heading upstairs. 

Saadia went back to the fire and watched Vilkas put the books back on the shelves.

“She’ll need more books soon.”  He told her.

“I’ll get some more.”  Saadia said and waited for him to sit back down.  “Listen… I may have met a Daedra-”

“A Daedra?”  Vilkas asked with a warning tone.

“A Daedric Prince, possibly…?”  She asked, Vilkas narrowed his eyes with concern.

“Which one?”  He asked guardedly.  But Saadia simply took the mask out and handed it to him.  “This is the Masque of Clavicus Vile.”  He said in awe.  He ran his fingers along the large curved horns, sweeping up and backwards from the top of the head and ending in sharp points.  Saadia had already marvelled at the intricate patterns carved into the silver metal.  What the masque was actually made of was impossible to tell.  The masque was carved into the likeness of a face with a stony glare and a twirled moustache.  It covered the entire head and neck and seemed to have no openings to see out off. 

“So I met a dog named-”

“Barbas.”  Vilkas said.  “And you obviously did something for Clavicus Vile, for him to give you his Masque?”

“I got him the Rueful axe.”  Saadia said and Vilkas sighed.

“Sebastian Lort.”  He said softly. 

“How’d you know?”

“Nurie’s father.”  He replied.

“Oh…”  Saadia said softly, “Well he’s dead now.”

“He was broken by Nurie’s love of Hircine.”  He said, “Nurie never hid it; she was a werewolf before she came to us.  Kodlak was the one who convinced her to keep it quiet here in Whiterun.”  He looked down at the Masque, “Seems like it was easy to get this boon.”

“Not really.”  Saadia said, “I’ll tell you all about it later.”  She said to his querying face, “Is it safe to use?  Is it stronger than my current helmet?”

“Probably about twice as strong as your current helmet.”  He slipped it on and Saadia’s jaw dropped; it looked like he wasn’t wearing a helmet.  “According to legend it’s invisible to others when worn.  You’ll still see it in your reflections but…”

“I can’t see it.”  Saadia said.

“And the horns will still skewer your enemies when you head butt them, even though they can’t see them.”  Vilkas said, “And it has some of Clavicus ’s skill in it.”

“His skill?”

“His ability to make deals.”  Vilkas explained, “You’ll suddenly find that traders and shop-keeps will give you better prices and deals.”  He said, “And I think, from memory it also does something with Magicka…?”  He furrowed his brows, trying to remember.

“Magicka?”

“The energy mages use to cast spells.  It’s inside all of us, naturally, left over from when the Gods made Nirn.  But Elves have more than Humans, generally.”  He said, still trying to remember what the Masque did for Magicka, “Oh well Magicka doesn’t matter to you.”  He said when he couldn’t remember, “And it’s very comfortable; feels like you’re wearing nothing.”  He took it off and handed it back to her.

“So it’s safe?”

“Yeah.”  Vilkas nodded, “Many Daedric artefacts are safe to use; especially when given as a reward.”

“But some aren’t?”

“Some aren’t.”  Vilkas nodded, “And eventually the Daedric Prince will want it back, or want another champion to watch… they’ll send someone to kill you and take it back.”

“So not entirely safe…”  Saadia said looking at it.

“No, but I’m sure you’ll be able to handle anyone he sends after you.”  Vilkas shrugged.  “And he might not send anyone; he might wait for you to die.  Our lifespans are a very short period of time to them.” 

“Comforting.”  Saadia answered.  “Tell me about Nurie?”  She asked; every time someone said her name, Vilkas almost winced.

“She was a half Breton, half Nord werewolf.”  He said with a shrug. 

“You two were close?”  She asked and saw a stab of pain in his eyes before he had repressed it.  Saadia was beginning to suspect that Vilkas was made up of 90% repression. 

“We’re all close in the Circle.”  Vilkas said tightly.  Saadia understood that Vilkas wasn’t willing to talk about this. 

“I’m sure you wouldn’t mourn my death as you mourn hers.”  Saadia said as a joke to ease the tension.

“Then you don’t know me very well, Shield-sister.”  He answered softly. 

“I didn’t-” Saadia began to apologise and explain that she was joking, but Farkas came back in from Lucia’s room. 

“Strange helmet.”  He said looking at the Masque on the table beside Saadia’s chair.

“Yeah but it’s strong and powerful.”  Saadia answered, wishing she’d had a little longer with Vilkas, but he had already turned away to check on the cub.

“Good.”  Farkas said, his eyes lingering on her face. 

“I’ll look after… Tarryn was it?”  Vilkas asked and Saadia nodded.  He waved her off, “You two have catching up to do, right?”  He said and turned his eyes back to the cub. 

“Yes we do.”  Farkas answered and took her hand.

“Try to be quiet.”  Vilkas said as they headed up the stairs. 

“No guarantees.”  Farkas answered with a laugh. 

When they were upstairs Farkas kissed her deeply as he closed the door to her bedroom. 

“You have to tell me everything that’s happened this past month.”  Saadia said in between kisses.

“I’m glad you’re back.”  He said, “We’ll talk later, first…”  He picked her up and she wrapped her arms and legs around him.  “I’ve missed you.”  He said before his lips greedily kissed her again.  

“I’ve missed you.”  She said, eagerly beginning to undress him. 

They fell onto the bed together, only half undressed, Farkas already thrusting into her. 

He stroked her cheek gently and looked into her eyes as Saadia ran her hands up his back, holding him close to her.  The intimacy between them was unlike anything she’d ever experienced.  She stroked his face and kissed his lips.

“I’m glad I’m home.”  She whispered to him. 

 

***

 

Lucia ran ahead, swinging her wooden sword at the tall bushes, laughing loudly. 

The four adults were less exuberant, but just as cheerful; it was a beautiful day, the spring flowers were blooming, the bees and butterflies were flitting around… it was a good day for a picnic.

“Stay in sight!”  Lydia called forward to Lucia, but she ran over the crest of the hill.

“I’ve got it.”  Saadia said and ran ahead.

When she crested the hill she saw a thief, holding a dagger to Lucia’s throat, the terrified girl standing perfectly still.

“Hand over your valuables or I’ll gut this girl like a fish.”  He demanded.

“Walk away.”  Saadia advised, “Right now.”

“Nice try wench,” He scoffed, “but you don’t scare me, I’m not going to ask again.”  He pressed the blade harder against Lucia’s throat and she yelped in fear and pain. 

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”  Saadia said as she unsheathed her greatsword.

“The kid’ll be dead before you’ve had chance to swing that thing.”  He said, “Give me all your valuables.”  Saadia tossed him a bag of coins, and he weighed it in this hand.  He sized her up for a moment, and then nodded to her sword.  “And the sword.”  He said and Saadia tossed it over to him.  He caught it as he pushed Lucia away.  Saadia caught her and Lucia wrapped her arms around her hips, burying her face in Saadia’s stomach. 

The thief started to run away just as Lydia and the brothers crested the hill.

Saadia put her hand over Lucia’s face, keeping her head turned away.

“YOL!”  She Shouted and the thief began to scream as he caught fire.  Saadia picked up Lucia and held her tight.

“No one touches my daughter.”  She said fiercely, Lucia clinging to her, but not crying.  She turned her face to see the burning thief, Saadia deciding to let her see what happened to people like this.  “You alright?”  She asked and Lucia nodded slowly, her eyes on the thief as he collapsed, no longer screaming, but still writhing in pain. 

“You can make fire like the Dragons.”  She said in awe.

“That’s right.”  Saadia answered, “I’m Dragonborn.” 

“What happened?”  Farkas asked as Lydia and Vilkas went to the burning body.

“A thief.”  Saadia said, “Who threatened my daughter.” 

“He’s dead.”  Lydia said as Vilkas nudged the greatsword away from the fire with his foot; it was too hot to pick up now. 

“Your sword might need some work again.”  He said, noting that the Dragon fire had affected it.  And then he laughed, “So that was Shouting!”  He laughed again.  “Very impressive.” 

Saadia carried Lucia the rest of the way to the river.  By the time they got there the girl seemed to be quite recovered; Saadia’s presence gave her courage. 

Vilkas watched in amusement as everyone stripped down to their underwear and jumped into the river to swim.

“You’re not coming in?”  Saadia asked.

“Vilkas doesn’t swim.”  Lucia answered. 

“Someone has to guard our-”

“They’ll be fine, come on in!”  Saadia answered, “It’s a perfect temperature.”

“Swimming is an unnecessary pleasure Dragonborn.”  He noted, “I get all the water I need when I bathe.” 

“Alright, but you don’t know what you’re missing out on.”  Saadia said.

“I’m quite happy setting up the rods for fishing.”  He said simply. 

The day was spent lazily fishing, eating and frolicking in the water and on blankets by the river side.

It was one of the best days of Saadia’s life.

 

***

 

When Saadia decided to go and see what this Temple of Azura all the inn keepers were talking about, she did so reluctantly.  She knew it was her fate to destroy Alduin the World-Eater, and she knew she needed to get stronger, better, faster to beat him.  And she also needed to figure out how to actually get to him… But she also loved being in Whiterun with her family.  Part of her felt like the more she went down this path, the more of herself she’d lose.  Or perhaps she’d gain parts of herself that she hadn’t known she’d had…

It just felt like every time she left home, she was leaving it for longer… leaving it further behind. 

She was determined to not be gone for so long this time.

“If you want this cub to be loyal to you, you’re going to have to take her everywhere with you.”  Vilkas had said and handed her a specially made bag for holding her.  “I found a wolf cub once…”

“Where is she?”

“He… found a mate.”  Vilkas said, “He still visits.  On his third litter of cubs.” 

“How long did he stay with you?”

“8 years.  When she wants to mate, she’ll go off to be alone to nest with the cubs.  But she’ll come back afterwards; sabercats don’t get a pack like wolves do.  He has a pack now.” 

“You have to stop taking in strays.”  Saadia laughed as she looked at the snug, plush satchel for the cub to sleep in, a side compartment for holding bottles of milk and food was bottomless.  The whole thing was waterproof, had a high armour rating and was practically impervious to magic and the elements.  But it was heavy. 

“I did.”  He answered.

“Hm, you took me in.”

“Against my will.”  He answered moodily.

“And look at how that turned out.”  She grinned.

“Hm.”  He grunted.

“And all the new whelps.”  He pulled an unimpressed look.

“Also against my will.”

“You love it.”  She teased and he rolled his eyes. 

She promised Lydia and Lucia she’d be home as soon as possible. 

The farewell with Farkas had almost turned into sex. 

And Rayya and her set out early in the morning; the temple was high in the mountains according to reports.  But Saadia found a fairly clear path towards the place it was meant to be, and the going was fairly easy.  Tarryn was in her little pouch, strapped around Saadia’s waist, fast asleep.

She saw a few heavily guarded forts, and marked them on her map so she could come back later and kill off all the bandits in them. 

By far the hardest part of the journey was not intervening in a bloody skirmish between some Stormcloak and Imperial soldiers. 

She felt like she just wanted to stop them from fighting; everything about this civil war felt wrong. 

But she knew she couldn’t enter the battlefield without being forced to pick a side, and she just didn’t know which side to pick.  She could see the point both side was making, and she could see the flaws in both side’s arguments.  She left them to their bloody fighting and continued on her way, feeling the weight of all those deaths on her shoulders. 

It was mid-afternoon, and they were high in the mountains when Saadia felt the unmistakeable pull of a Word Wall. 

She left the path in search of it, Rayya following without a word. 

An hour of climbing over rocky outcrops and scrambling up steep cliffs led to a dirt road among some high rock cliffs.  Saadia dropped down to it, having climbed up to be above the path, and started following it; she knew it led towards the Wall. 

Rayya unsheathed her scimitars when they came across the first mammoth skeleton strewn across the path.  They climbed through the skeleton and Saadia unsheathed her greatsword when she saw the corpse of a giant rotting on the road up ahead, everything from the chest down was missing; ripped off.

“Dragon.”  Saadia whispered and Rayya nodded.  They both knew they were heading towards a Dragon lair, but the pull of the Word Wall was heading this way; Saadia would not stop for the threat of a Dragon. 

Rayya nudged her arm and she looked up, the tips of a Dragon’s wings were coming into view over the cliff wall in front of them.  They continued to walk down the path, and when it opened up they saw a Dragon perched atop a World Wall, its wings wrapped around it, a deep rumble filling the air; it was asleep.  The flattened earth between them and the Word Wall was strewn with bones from Humans, mammoths, giants, trolls, sabercats, cows and wolves.  The tips of the trees were all broken down, the soil was trampled down, the rocks nearby gouged with claw marks; the Dragon marking its territory. 

“Convenient.”  Saadia muttered, “A Word to learn and a soul to take in one location…”

“I don’t suppose there’s any chance of us sneaking up and killing it in a very easy fight is there, my Thane?”  Rayya asked.

“I’m almost certain there’s no chance of that.”  Saadia replied in an equally low voice.

“I thought so.”  She said, her eyes never leaving the sleeping Dragon, “Heavy sleepers…”

“I suppose they don’t have to worry about someone sneak attacking them and killing them in one hit.”  Saadia answered. 

They headed towards the Dragon, Saadia finding it easier to resist the Word Wall with the threat of a Dragon present. 

The Dragon snorted slightly, took a deep breath and then stretched its wings out, its eyes slowly opening. 

They watched, still walking towards it, as it awoke from its slumber; obviously having smelled something. 

It saw them almost instantly and roared fire at them from its perch before taking flight.

It was an easier battle than they were expecting; the Dragon was still sluggish from sleep, and its wings already had a few holes in them, so a few arrows shot through them, made the beast land, angrily snapping at them.

But its skull was relatively weak, and between Rayya and Saadia, it stood no chance on the ground. 

However, when it died it tumbled down the side of the mountain.

“Oh Gods…”  Saadia sighed, wondering if she needed to be close to it to absorb its soul…

The bright light of its soul shot out if the Dragon as it fell, and catapulted up the mountain, lighting up the cliffside for everyone to see for miles around.

“Well I hope we didn’t need the element of surprise for the Temple.”  Rayya said dryly.  She nodded towards the next mountain over and Saadia’s jaw dropped. 

Across the valley on the peak of another mountain, was a truly huge statue of a woman holding a huge star and a crescent moon in the other hand.  Hundreds of stairs led up to the base of the statue - which had to be hundreds of feet tall. 

“The Shrine of Azura.”  Saadia whispered.

It was several hours later, after a gruelling trek to cross the valley, that they finally came to the stairs at the base of the statue.

Saadia craned her neck to look up at it.

“You don’t see that every day.”  Rayya commented as she looked up too.

“How did anyone build this?”  Saadia marvelled. 

“With great difficulty, skill and determination, I imagine.”  Rayya answered. 

Saadia began to climb the stairs, noticing how well maintained they were; this was a beloved shrine.  But it was to a Daedra…

When they got near the top, they found a tent and some sacks with food supplies and books on the second landing, hidden in a nook, out of the wind, avoiding most of the ice and snow that was falling down on them right now. 

And on the top landing at the feet of the statue was an altar, and a woman chanting, her arms held up to the statue.

“No harm shall come to me, for I live under Azura's wisdom.  Her foresight protects me.  Her insight sustains me.”  A deep breath in, “We are children of the Twilight; beings who are to be guided from the darkness into the light and from the light into darkness.”  Saadia watched, utterly fascinated, “Azura, who led her children away from the disaster of Vvardenfell, you are the prophet that reveals our true future.”

She was a Dark Elf, a Dunmer, from Morrowind.  She wore a simple robe, a hood covering her head, and cloth foot wrappings; wet with snow.  Saadia had no idea how she wasn’t freezing. 

“Hello…?”  Saadia said as they approached her.

“Azura has seen your coming, traveller.”  She said without turning away from the altar.  “It was not curiosity, but fate, that has led you here.”

“Seen my coming?”  Saadia asked, “What do you mean?”

“Azura has given me the gift of foresight.”  She answered and turned to face Saadia, “I had a vision of you walking up the steps to this altar long before you were born.  You have been chosen to be her champion.  I know it is unexpected, but do not worry. It will all unfold as she has predicted.”

“What if I don’t believe in fate?”  Saadia asked, putting her hands on her hips. 

“Perhaps that is what you are meant to believe, to better serve your role as Azura's champion.”  The Dark Elf answered, “Do not fight it.”  She said in a serenely soothing voice, “Azura's prophecies always come to pass.  To deny them is to go headlong into the darkness with no light to guide you.”

Saadia mulled that over for a moment and looked around.

“What is this place?  Who's Azura?”  She asked while she considered what had been said. 

“This shrine was built by the Dunmer.  As our land was scorched by fire and brimstone, Azura's prophecies led us to safety.”  She gently placed a hand on the altar, as if in thanks.  “She is a Daedra, a powerful being who watches from beyond our mortal plane.  She has chosen you to be her champion."

“Yeah you said that, but what if I don’t want to be her champion?”  Saadia challenged.

“There is no one else.”  She conceded simply.  “But I cannot force you to accept your destiny.”  She turned away and held her hands up to the statue again.  Saadia’s experience with Daedra thus far had been… interesting.  She mulled it over for a moment longer.

“And if I accepted being her champion, what then?”  She asked and the Elf turned back to her. 

“You must go to a fortress, endangered by water, yet untouched by it.  Inside, you will find an Elven mage who can turn the brightest star as black as night.”  She said and then sighed, “It is cryptic, I know, but Azura's signs are never wrong.”  She said, “I believe the fortress may refer to Winterhold.  Ask if they know this Elven enchanter.”

“Alright, before I decide if I’m going to do this; tell me more about Azura.”

“She is the Goddess of Dawn and Dusk.”  The Elf answered readily, “Azura sees into the Twilight of the future, and guides her followers through it.”

“And your people built this shrine?”

“Yes.”  She answered, “We fled from Morrowind after Vvardenfell erupted almost 200 years ago.  Those of us who were faithful to Azura were given a vision that led us away from the island before the worst came.  This shrine is our thanks to her.  That none will forget that she watches over us all.”

“And you tend it alone?” 

“Yes.”  She answered sadly, “There were others at first, but Azura's visions tested everyone's faith.  One by one, they left.  Afraid to know their own future.”  But she held her head high; “But I refuse to abandon the shrine.  The visions are a gift.  Azura warns me of tragedy, war, death before it happens.  I won't leave her guidance.”

“And your name is?”  Saadia asked.

“Aranea Ienith.”  She answered, “And you are Saadia, from the Isle of Stirk, Dovahkiin, Ysmir, Dragon of the North, Thane of Whiterun, Thane of Falkreath... And you do not yet know the rest…” 

“Did Azura tell you that too?”  Saadia asked and Aranea gave her an enigmatic smile.

“Twilight guide your path.”  She answered as a farewell and turned away. 

Saadia sucked her teeth, mulling it over.  She didn’t want to go to a new city yet.  She had enough on her plate right now.  She decided this Daedra could wait.

 

***

 

Saadia spent the next few weeks spreading herself between Falkreath, Whiterun and Riverwood. 

It had involved a lot clearing out caves and people’s houses from wild animals.

It had not been an exciting or overly enjoyable experience.

Unlike returning Runil’s journal – He had left it in a beautiful cave with sparkling crystals and an underground forest… but also a couple of bears.  She had read the journal; her curiosity had been too great… and it was filled with horrifying tales of the death and pain he had caused people during the Great War and the nightmares, guilt, shame and grief he now felt.

Saadia hadn’t been able to finish it; it was too personal.  But she had a greater understanding and respect for the old Elf when she returned the journal to him.  He had told her it was collection of regrets he tried not to forget and Saadia respected him even more.  She stayed around him for the rest of the day, learning about the duties of a priest of Arkay, cleaning gravestones, respecting the dead and learning about the cycle of life and death, as well as all about the God Arkay.  It had been a peaceful day.  Rayya had dozed under a tree for most of it.  Saadia had teased her about it mercilessly for a few days before letting it go. 

And in Falkreath she finally got a clear answer to a problem that had been rolling around in her head: what to do about Iman and whether to believe her or not.

She went to Grave Concoctions, the alchemist in Falkreath, for the first time; she had gathered a lot of herbs and ingredients, and she liked to keep alchemists stocked in ingredients; their potions were very useful for everyone in a city. 

When she walked in she was surprised to see a Redguard woman behind the counter. 

“Hello.”  She said with a big grin. 

“Hi there!”  The woman said with the same big grin; it was always good to see another Redguard woman in Skyrim.  “Don't let the shop's name frighten you away.  I have plenty of reliable tonics and healing potions to sell.”  She assured them.

“My name’s Saadia, this is Rayya.”  Saadia said, “It’s good to meet you.”

“Zaria!”  She said, her smile getting even broader, “You know I was just thinking the other day that if either these Nords or Imperials had some Red in their blood this war would be over.”  She said, noting the warrior prowess of their shared race. 

The three woman laughed delightedly.

“Very true, sister.”  Rayya agreed. 

“How can I help you ladies?”  Zaria asked.

“I found these eggs in an abandoned cave.”  Saadia said taking about half of the eggs out.

“Oh Chaurus eggs.”  She said happily, picking them up, “Not many people come back alive from collecting these.”  She noted, “It’s no surprise to me that 2 Redguard women are bringing me such a prize.  I’ll give you 10 coins an egg.”  She said gathering them up and counting them.

“How long do they keep for?”

“Months.”  Zaria said, “And in an appropriately charmed apothecary satchel, all ingredients last indefinitely.” 

“And I’d get one of those from Farengar, right?”  Saadia asked.

“Yes!”  Zaria answered.

“So why did you name the store Grave Concoctions?”  Saadia asked as Zaria got some coin from behind the counter.

“I know it's a bit strange; not exactly a name to bring comfort to the sick and ailing who come to buy a poultice or salve.”  She said with a slight chuckle, “But what you must understand about Falkreath is that our town is defined, for better or worse, by the large and ancient cemetery here.  That's why the inn is called Dead Man's Drink, the farm is called Corpselight Farm, and so on.  I suppose it's sort of a running joke.”

“Funny.”  Rayya said, “And I always enjoy people who can laugh in the face of death.” 

“Why are you lovely Redguard ladies here?”  She asked, “In Skyrim I mean?”

“The war.”  Rayya answered simply.

“Damn the Aldmeri Dominion.”  Zaria answered bitterly before turning her eyes to Saadia.

“Same reason.”  She answered, not wanting to go into her real reasons.  “And what brought you here?”

“Well, my family back in Hammerfell didn't approve of my interest in lethal poisons and death in general.  So I left, and wandered north.  When I found this town, with its huge cemetery, I felt right at home.  I opened the shop and I've never looked back.  This is where I belong.”

“Do you never miss home?”  Rayya asked.

“Sometimes on the coldest nights.”  Zaria answered and they all laughed.  “And when I think of marriage, I miss the beautiful Redguard warrior men.”  She sighed.  “There aren’t enough of us here.”

“Yeah, and the only Redguard men I’ve seen were the Alik’r.”  Saadia agreed and Zaria’s eyes grew wide.

“You met Alik’r mercenaries?”  She asked.  “I wonder why they are here?”

“Oh they’re looking for a Redguard woman.”  Saadia answered.

“Well then I pity her.”  Zaria answered and Rayya cocked an eyebrow.  “You do not?”  She asked Rayya.

“I am not from the Alik’r region in Hammerfell.”  Rayya said, explaining more to Saadia than Zaria, “I do not know them other than by reputation and rumours.  They are said to be fierce fighters.”

“They used to be men of honour.  But now too many of them work for the Aldmeri Dominion, selling out their own kin for gold.”  She shook her head in disgust.  “Some stay true to their warrior roots… but not enough of them.” 

“They’re after a women named Iman.”  Saadia said, wondering if she could get any more information. 

“Not Iman from House Suda?”  She asked, “In the city of Taneth?” 

“I honestly don’t know?”  Saadia asked.

“She is a heroine to many women; and a staunch supporter of Hammerfell returning to the Empire.”  Zaria continued, “I heard that when the city was under attack, some of the noble houses turned to the Aldmeri Dominion’s side, so that they wouldn’t lose their wealth and power.”  She said, “And she uncovered their betrayal and encouraged the people to rise up against them and the Dominion; to refuse the treaty and to fight for our freedom.  The Nobles put a price on her head and branded her a traitor.”  She shook her head, “It’s no surprise the Alik’r have taken that bounty.  It would be worth a fortune to bring her back alive to the city, to be publicly humiliated and tortured until they make her admit to crimes she never committed, then they’d execute her.”

“The nobles would do this?”  Saadia asked.

“People in their employment.”  Zaria corrected, “They don’t want anyone to know the depth of their treachery.”

“And how do you know it?”

“My brother writes often.  He’s part of the Hammerfell Liberation Army.”  She explained, “Iman is a heroine to them; she tried to tell everyone the truth, and she was forced to go into hiding, and now they smear her name to all that will listen.”

“Many of the nobles have forgotten our Yokuda roots.”  Rayya said grimly.

“Agreed.”  Zaria said, “It’s foul what they have done to our people.”  She turned her eyes to Saadia, “You cannot let the Alik’r have her.”

 

***

 

Saadia reached down and put her hands on the earth.  Rayya watched her, not understanding what she was doing. 

The power was right here, metres under the ground. 

It was a burial mound.  For a Dragon.  Rayya knew it was still intact; she’d already checked one for Delphine. 

Saadia could feel the Dragon soul in the ground beneath her feet, the Dragon was dead, Delphine had been right about that… but it was also slumbering, awaiting its master…

“I can feel the power of the Dragon.”  Saadia said softly.

“I see.”  Rayya understood now. 

She wondered if there was a way for her to awaken the Dragons, and then kill them as they crawled from their graves. 

She wondered who she could even ask about this. 

She sighed and left the mound behind; continuing her journey to find Kematu, the leader of the Alik’r hunting down Iman. 

“Bandits.”  Rayya noted as they neared the entrance to the cave that Rissok had marked on her map. 

They approached and the bandits, laughing and joking, stood up and became all seriousness.

“That’s close enough.”  One of them warned.

“You’re right.”  Rayya answered, bringing up her bow and arrow and planting an arrow in his throat. 

While the other 2 bandits where staring at the arrow jutting out of a gurgling, gasping third bandit, Saadia closed the distance between her and them and slammed her blade through the stomach of the first one.  The second one turning in time to give Saadia a great opportunity to slash his throat. 

“Let’s hope they all go down that easily, my Thane.”  Rayya said, “So that we may conserve our strength for the battle with the Alik’r.”

“Well hopefully Kynareth is guiding me… or guarding me… or something.”  Saadia answered. 

“And what of the Redguard half of you; who guards and guides her?”

“Good question.”  Saadia answered.  “Who would you suggest?”

“Tava.”  Rayya answered, “Many Redguards in Skyrim have come to think of her as basically the same as Kynareth…” 

“Convenient.”  Saadia answered.  “Do you think they’re the same?”

“I do not ignore the similarities.”  Rayya answered.  “Many religions believe basically the same things; the end of the world will come, some sort of afterlife - you must earn your way into the good afterlife… various Gods…”  She shrugged, “I think we are mortal and can never fully understand the Aedra or Daedra or their worlds, their minds, their wills.”  She finished.

“So we must do the best we can.”  Saadia said.  “And hope some of them give a damn about us.” 

“I believe they do.”  Rayya answered, “It’s just that they sometimes want different things for us than we want for ourselves.” 

“Is Tava who you would usually pray to for a good battle?”  Saadia asked.

“No.”  Rayya answered.  “If I were to pray before battle it would be to Ebonarm.”

“Ebonarm…”  Saadia nodded, trying to memorise the name.

“He is the God of War, and companion to all warriors.”  Rayya explained without needing to be asked.  “Because of his many battles, his ebony sword become fused to his arm.”  Rayya went on, “He is the Black Knight, allied to no one.  We Redguard often keep shrines to him in our homes.”

“Well we’ll need to put one in our home in Falkreath.”  Saadia said. 

“I would like that, my Thane.”

“But you don’t pray before battle?”

“I usually focus my mind.”  Rayya said and Saadia nodded.

“As do I.” 

“Prayer is for quiet moments alone.  Not before battle.”

“I suppose we better go into this cave.”  Saadia sighed, “Ebonarm guide and guard us.”  She grinned and Rayya chuckled and nodded. 

They went into the cave, Saadia trying to creep because she knew she needed to get better at being silent. 

They heard bandits talking up ahead.

“I don’t like these Alik’r hiding out here.” 

“I don’t know if it’s a good idea either.”

“Look, I know no one likes it, but they’re paying good coin.” 

Saadia and Rayya shared a look.

“You know Rayya, I am beginning to think that there’s more citizens of Skyrim who are bandits, than peaceful, law-abiding citizens.”

“You might be right, my Thane”

They stepped out into the room and the three bandits stared at them with surprise. 

“Are you ready to die today?”  One of the bandits asked, lunging at Saadia.

“Are you?”  Saadia asked and sliced his throat open with the long reach of her greatsword. 

He choked, dropping his sword to put his hands to his throat; trying to stop the blood… He looked to the other bandits for help, blood coming out of his mouth, his eyes glazing.  Saadia watching him with satisfaction as he fell to his knees, and then down onto his face, dead. 

When she turned to the other bandits, Rayya had killed one of the bandits and was in a sword fight with the last one.  Saadia leaned against the wall and watched her work; it didn’t take her long to slice him across the chest; the sharp, long, cutting edge of her scimitar cutting down to his lungs, right through the bones. 

A long winding tunnel filled with well-hidden bear traps reminded Saadia of her first few steps on the mainland of Tamriel.  She wondered what that old woman was up to nowadays, and if she had known what Saadia would get up to.

There wasn’t much to this cave system; the bandits weren’t well organised, nor were they very skilled. 

They were easily killed.

They came to a room that was apparently a dead end - a river flowing from a waterfall roaring down the wall.  This seemed to be the end of the cave system.

“There’s Alik’r in this cave system?”  Rayya asked.  “Secret entrance.  Sneaky.”  She said narrowing her eyes.

They looked around the room, Rayya running her hands along the walls.

But the waterfall held Saadia’s attention. 

“Hey.”  She said softly to Rayya and motioned for her to follow.  They edged towards the waterfall, stepping into the shallow river, to walk to its base.

They walked through the waterfall, to be greeted with a well organised room of Alik’r fighters, all with their scimitars pointed at them; at least a dozen men, each wearing the robes and blue head coverings typical of Redguard men from the Alik’r region. 

The room had 2 paths leading up the sides of the room to provide a balcony area above the water, looking down on them; a dozen more Alik’r fighters, each with arrows trained on them. 

“Alik’r hold!”  An incredibly attractive man stepped forward.  His head was uncovered and he wore his hair in short thick dreadlocks, the sides of his scalp shaved to reveal intricate tattoos, and leaving a thick strip of hair from his forehead to the nape of his neck.  His eyes were so dark they seemed black, and his skin was smooth and dark, Saadia could tell how silky his skin would feel, should she run her hands along his body. 

He was tall, muscular, and wore a cocky grin.  He knew he was attractive, and he eyed them both as if he was imagining bedding the both of them simultaneously. 

Saadia had a moment of thinking the same thing before reminding herself of just who this man was. 

He walked down the ramp to the higher floor to them and Rayya cleared her throat in a way that made Saadia know that Rayya had had a similar thought for a moment.

“You've proven your strength, my fellow Redguard warriors.”  He said with an amused smile, his eyes taking them both in, a glean of suggestion in the way his eyebrow raised slightly.  “Let's avoid any more bloodshed.”  He turned to look at Saadia, “I think you and I have some things to talk about.”  He motioned for her to follow him and Saadia gave Rayya a nod and followed him.  Rayya kept her scimitars drawn and moved out of the water to stand on the dry land on the lower landing, keeping her eyes on Saadia as Kematu led her up to the top landing.

When they got to the top of the landing he invited her to sit down at the table, but she simply raised the tip of her sword to indicate she had no intention of making nice.

“Stay your hand, warrior!”  He said as she sat down, his eyes twinkling, he lit up an ornate shisha pipe and took a deep drag, offering it to her as he slowly let the smoke out of his lungs.  She shook her head and he chuckled, seemingly taken by her.  “It's no secret why you're here and you have proven your skill in combat.”  His eyes didn’t leave her face, “Let us talk a moment, and no one else needs to die.”  He let his eyes crawl down her body slowly, “I think we can all profit from the situation in which we find ourselves.”  He motioned to the chair opposite himself again.  “My men will not attack you, if you will lower your weapons.” 

Saadia sheathed her greatsword and crossed her arms over her chest, cocking an expectant eyebrow at him.  Rayya, followed suite and sheathed her scimitars, leaving her hands on her hips, eyeing everyone closely; sizing them all up. 

“Why are you after Iman?”

“She sold the city out to the Aldmeri Dominion.”  He answered and took another drag on his pipe.  “Were it not for her betrayal,” Smoke left his mouth in swirling tendrils as he spoke, “Taneth could have held its ground in the war.  The other noble houses discovered her betrayal and she fled.  They want her brought back alive.”  He said that last word with meaning; making sure Saadia heard it; she was to be taken back alive.  Saadia wouldn’t be handing her over to be killed.  At least not immediately.  “The resistance against the Dominion is alive and well in Hammerfell, and they want justice.”

“Hm.”  Saadia gave a slight nod of her head.  “She wants me to kill you, you know.” 

“Of course, she sent you to clean up after her... What is it that she's calling herself these days?  Shazra?  Saadia?  One of those, correct?”  He seemed thoroughly amused by this conversation, “Did she appeal to your sense of honour?  Your greed?  A more... base need, perhaps?”

“Hm.”  Saadia made an amused noise.  “Base needs…”  She narrowed her eyes; thinking about how this man had asked Iman to marry him once.

“It doesn't matter.”  He said, waving it all off, “No doubt she's convinced you that she's the victim.  But I have told you why we pursue her.”

“Not still trying to get her to marry you then?”  Saadia asked and he narrowed his eyes.

“That was many years ago.  Before I knew she was a traitor to our people.” 

“She says you’re assassins.”  Saadia said, shifting the weight in her feet, noticing how he favoured his left hand, preparing herself for the battle ahead.

“Assassins?”  He nearly laughed, “No, nothing so crass.  ‘Saadia’, as you know her, is wanted by the noble houses of Taneth for treason.  We were hired to see her returned to Hammerfell for her crimes.  You can help us with that, and make sure no one else gets hurt.”

“I met a woman named Zaria, who told me almost exactly what Iman did about why you’re after her.  Now I hadn’t told her what Iman said; she just told me what she knew of the situation…”

“Iman most likely paid her off.”  He said stiffly, his amusement waning.

“A woman who is too afraid to leave the building she’s hiding in, somehow managed to buy off another woman in a different city…”  Saadia asked sceptically. 

“Skyrim has an excellent courier service.”  He noted. 

“Yes it does.”  Saadia said and finally sat down.  He gave her a triumphant smile.

“I was hoping we’d work something out.”  He said and leaned forward, “If I may be honest; I find you rather attractive.  Perhaps we can spend some time together after we’ve sorted out this little mess?”

“I don’t think so.”  Saadia said simply, “I don’t like the smell of corpses.” 

He glared silently at her for a moment and then laughed, smiling sinfully.

“Well, I guess my pretty face didn’t fool you.”  He said, his face suddenly growing stony and serious.  “I was hoping to complete my task in Skyrim without having to kill you.”  He said coldly.  “But if this is the way you want to play it, then I live to give you as you wish.”

“I believe you will need to die to give me what I wish.”  Saadia answered, almost politely.  He chuckled again then made a reluctant noise.

“Are you sure we can’t come to an understanding?”  He asked, “I would so love to taste you, woman.  You are magnificent.”

“Perhaps if you were not a mercenary sent to kill an innocent woman, I’d take you up on that offer.” 

“Alas.”  He said with a small smile.  But again, his face went hard.  “Stand to meet your fate, woman.”  He said as he got to his feet, drawing his dual scimitars. 

But she leaned back in her seat, unsheathing her greatsword and laying it across her knees, looking up at him with a cocky grin on her face. 

Rayya’s fingers twitched near her swords, ready for battle, a plan of attack ready – her Thane had given them both enough time to size up their opponents.  All around her the Alik’r raised their weapons, half of them taking aim at her, the other half taking aim at Saadia.

“You cannot survive this fight.”  Kematu said to Saadia.  “Surrender.”

“I was just about to say that.”  She answered.  “Surrender.  Man.” 

He stared at her in disbelief and slowly brought his blade around to be pointing at her throat.

“Such a shame.”  He whispered and then brought his blade back quickly, about to slice her throat.

Saadia ducked forward quickly and kicked his knee at the same time, forcing him off-balance.  She swung her greatsword up at his mid-section but he brought his second scimitar down and blocked it, her sword driving him back, but he spun away, holding both swords up, his eyes alive.  Saadia was mindful of the weak spots in her armour as arrows pinged off her; the archers working hard to take her down 

Rayya whipped out her scimitars and used the left-handed blade to deflect arrows and the right one to deflect swords; she was surrounded and horribly outgunned.  But she had a plan.  She’d noticed how small the room was, how crowded it was with this many people in it...  She shoulder-barged the swordsman closest to her and he stumbled into the one next to him; like dominos half the men on her left side were stumbling.  And a stumbling man was a distracted man.  She sliced 2 throats before they had realised what was happening. 

Kematu was quick.  And so were the half a dozen swordsmen that surrounded her.  Her greatsword was slower. 

But she had a plan. 

She stood up, her sword in one hand, and grabbed the heavy wooden chair, throwing it at the swordsmen; taking them by surprise.  She stabbed one in the gut with one hand, liberating him of one of his scimitars as he fell to the ground.  She used his sword to whip around and slice the throat of the man next to him, bringing her sword up just in time to block Kematu’s blow.  He spun around and brought his other blade down on hers; but she was used to much heavier weapons and much stronger blows than that.  He was fast, but he lacked the power she was used to from training with the Circle.  She parried his blow and flicked her sword, nearly making him lose grip of his scimitar.  She was glad she’d taken Vilkas’s advice and strengthened her arms to hold her greatsword single-handed for short bursts; she needed it now. 

Rayya leaped up onto the back of a man who was keeling over; his throat slit by her speedy, sharp scimitar, and took aim, kicking the next man in the face.  He reeled back and she ducked an arrow, used her blade to block the next arrow, and landed on the floor beside the man she’d kicked; his hands covering his face.  She ran her blade along his throat and ducked a blade slicing towards her neck. 

Saadia head butted a man, the horns of her helmet slamming through his eye socket and into his brain, effectively lobotomising him.  When she pulled back his eye was on the end of the horn, dripping white gunk everywhere.  She wiped it with her finger and flicked the eye away and turned her back to be against the chest of the lobotomised man who stood screaming, his hand over his eye, and dodged a thrust aimed at her face.  She tossed the scimitar directly up into the air and grabbed the man’s wrist as his scimitar sang past her ear.  She yanked him forward and-

THUNK

-The scimitar she’d thrown landed tip down in the back of his neck.  She yanked the scimitar out and brought the blade down on the back of his neck, slicing through his flesh like it was butter, the beautiful blade stull cutting even as she pulled the blade out.  He fell to the ground as she blocked an arrow aimed for her throat with the scimitar, still dripping with his blood.  Pulling her lobotomised flesh-shield along with her, she took aim at Kematu, her greatsword held out in front of her, the shorter reach of his scimitars frustrating him.  Arrows sunk into the flesh of her human-shield as Kematu slammed his scimitars into her greatsword furiously, and with great skill, making lightning dashes forward to try and cut her, to stab her, to slice and dice her.  But she was focused and she dodged, she parried, she blocked. 

Many of the archers began to take out scimitars too, realising that the women were too well armoured, too skilled and too quick, for their weak arrows to do any harm.  Both Saadia and Rayya had several arrows sticking out of their armour, but they were both unscathed thus far. 

Rayya was backing up, having seen what Saadia was doing up on the balcony, the men followed her as she backed away, fighting furiously with her two scimitars flashing and ducking and diving.  And then her back touched the wall below the balcony – she could go no further back. 

Saadia continued to push forward, Kematu and two men beside him having to step back to avoid the reach of her greatsword, even as they dove forward to try to cut her.  She stood side on to them, giving them a smaller point to aim at, and opening herself to fight the men behind her now that her flesh-shield man had tripped, stumbled and was crawling around on the floor weeping, arrows sticking out of his back, the life slowly leaving him. 

And then it happened.

Saadia had pushed the three men so far back that the first one took a step back, only for his foot to land on air.  His arms flailed, he fell; grabbing hold of Kematu, pulling his leader off the short cliff with him.  Saadia gutted the third man, while he was still in shock over what had happened and kicked his body off the edge, turning to the 2 men behind her. 

Rayya laughed as the two men fell down on top of all the men attacking her; she went to work, slicing and slashing them as they lay tangled on the floor, one of them screaming about a broken ankle from the fall.  It had worked out exactly as she had planned.  She had a feeling Saadia had intended for this to happen as well.  The women worked well together.

Saadia dropped the scimitar and used her two-handed great sword with both hands, swinging it as fast as she could, and with all her strength - the smaller, lighter scimitars broke under the force of her blows, leaving men scampering away, weaponless and begging for mercy.

There was no mercy. 

Saadia leapt down off the balcony and swung her sword around, beheading a man that came running at her to kill her. 

Rayya sliced the throat of another man before he could even get to his feet.

Kematu stood up and roared in fury, his scimitars raised, bruises coming up on his face from the fall. 

Saadia had learned that scimitars were a very ‘up close and personal’ type of weapon.  They weren’t so good at stabbing, but they were masterful at slicing.  They had a longer cutting edge to their blade than other sword of similar size, and a single sweeping motion would keep the blade slicing through flesh, both on the entry and exit.  Many smaller swords would get caught up in the flesh, unable to slice right through it, so you had to pull it back, pull it out of the wound.  Not so with scimitars.  They just kept cutting as you continued forward through the cutting motion.  It was very easy to cut a person in half with this blade, even though it was so small. 

And Redguard warriors often carried 2 of these swords – equally as skilled in both hands, able to use them to block blows and slice people in half.

Kematu’s eyes were focussed on Saadia; he intended to slice her in half.  His scimitars were raised, his teeth gritted with determination.

Behind her Rayya was in a fast battle with two men, other men were getting to their feet, others still were slowly dying, blood staining the water that the waterfall fed into.

Kematu lunged at Saadia, his scimitars crossed, catching her blade, sliding its length along them until he finally got up close and personal. 

And he kissed her lips, Saadia returning the kiss, more out of surprise than anything else.  It was a sizzling, passionate kiss and when they stopped he grinned lustfully.

“I would have fucked you so well you’d forget who you are.”  He said and then brought his elbow crashing into her jaw. 

The Masque of Clavicus Vile took most of the brunt of the force, and Kematu pulled his elbow away, looking stunned.  The Masque was invisible and he couldn’t understand how her jaw had been so brutally hard on his elbow. 

“Instead I’ll fuck you so well the world forgets who you are.”  Saadia returned, punching him in the face and bringing her sword up to block his sneaky side attack.  She punched him in the face again and he brought his other scimitar slicing through the air towards her throat.  He was devilishly quick.  Saadia bent back and brought her greatsword up to slice the arm off of a second swordsman about to bring his sword up to slice at her.  Everything from just below his right elbow fell to the ground; his hand still grasping this scimitar.  He screamed, grasping his stump as Saadia straightened up and then instantly bent forward, slamming her shoulder into Kematu’s stomach, tackling him to the ground. 

Rayya was successfully edging the 2 men she was fighting backwards towards another man who was slowly getting to his feet, pushing the body Saadia had disembowelled off himself.  She blocked an arrow from the only archer still in the room, hidden up the back, trying desperately to take her down, and lunged forward, one scimitar aimed at the mid-section of the man on her left, the other blocking a thrust from the man on her right. 

Intestines fell on the floor as the man fell under Rayya’s scimitar, her attention turning to the other man, both of her scimitars clanging brutally against both of his.

Saadia straddled Kematu, punching his face with one hand, the other holding her greatsword, ready to stab him in the face.

But an intensely loud clanging noise and a violent thrust of her head sideways, caused by a scimitar being thrown, full-force, from across the room, at her head, knocked her sideways.  The scimitar fell to the floor beside her, and her momentary lapse gave Kematu the chance to free himself, launching her off himself and jumping to his feet, slicing at her throat as he rose.  Both the thrown weapon and Kematu’s blade were deflected by the Masque of Clavicus Vile, and Saadia was glad she was wearing it as she got to her feet, her ears ringing, Kematu backing away to get his bearings back, his mouth and nose bleeding profusely.

Behind Saadia, Rayya grit her teeth against the pain of a scimitar blade slicing through the leather part of her steel armour at the armpit.  She had been reaching to slice at the one swordsman, who was backing up, when the man that had been getting to his feet lunged at her unexpectedly, landing a particularly skilled hit.  Blood seeped out from the wound, staining her armour as she again settled in to a battle against two men.

4 men surrounded Kematu, both protecting him and seeking protection from him. 

Saadia could see they were all waiting for the right time to slash out at her; one would go first and be the sacrifice, and while she was dealing with him, the others would all attack her.  But of course, no one wanted to go first. 

So she kicked the man to the left of Kematu in the gut, before he had chance to slash out at her.  As soon as he bent over she launched herself at him, barrel rolling, using his back as a table to bring her legs up, her back on his, rolling over, her feet slamming into the face of the man next to the man she was on.  The man stumbled, his hand going to his face as he bent over, spitting out a tooth.  Kematu brought his scimitar down, aiming at Saadia’s throat, but momentum brought Saadia full circle and she dropped from the man’s back, landing crouched on the floor; Kematu’s sword going straight through where she had been and half beheading the man she’d been using as a table.

“DAMN!”  Kematu roared.

“Thanks for that!”  Saadia said as she brought her great sword straight up, to meet the neck of the bent over man, beheading him from underneath rather than on top.  She then changed the angle of her swing and aimed her sword at Kematu’s knees.  He jumped over her blade and brought his scimitars down, but she brought her sword straight up to block them both.  Looking up she saw both scimitars above her head, Kematu’s enraged face glaring down at her.  She blew him a kiss and swept his feet with her foot, sending him sprawling onto his back. 

Rayya’s right arm was weakening due to the bad wound under it, so she was fighting primarily with her left hand, the blade flashing first one way then the other, blocking advances, unable to make a strike of her own until they left her an opening.  Then she’d be able to bring up her injured right arm and-

One of the men lunged at her, cocky, seeing the blood now pouring from her; he could taste her death. 

“You’ll die for what you’ve done to my brothers, woman.”  He said as he brutally brought his blade down towards her face.  Rayya raised her right weapon and sliced along his exposed ribs as she blocked his blow with her left scimitar.  The other man saw his opening and aimed his sword at her neck.

Both of the men that had been standing on the right side of Kematu turned to stare at him on the floor.  Saadia ran to them, stomping Kematu’s throat on the way through, her greatsword held at her hip, both hands grasping it firmly, her torso twisted, leading with her shoulder…

And she ran the sword through the gut of the first man, the blade continuing under the force of her momentum, picking him up, slamming into the gut of the man behind him, both of them slammed backwards until the greatsword came out the back of the second man. 

Saadia reefed her sword out of them and turned back to Kematu, who was getting to his feet, coughing, his hand on his throat.  She let him pick up his weapons, simply because she wanted a second to check in on Rayya.  She looked over and opened her mouth in horror when she saw the blade swinging towards Rayya’s head.

Rayya saw the movement in her peripheral and ducked, her blade still in the process of slicing along the other man’s ribs.  The man’s scimitar slammed into his Alik’r brother’s throat, wedging into the cervical bones.  He yanked at the blade, but it was stuck.  And Rayya simply used her left scimitar to slash across his face.  Both men fell to the floor, blood gurgling from their mouths and gushing from their wounds.  An arrow sailed past Rayya’s ear and she narrowed her eyes.

Kematu came at Saadia with his blades lashing out furiously fast.  They seemed to spin in front of him, like a whirling vortex of death.  He roared in outraged fury and vitriol; determined to see her dead. 

Saadia brought her sword up, but his spinning blades slammed into it, making it jerk at an unexpected angle and the sword flew out of her hands. 

Kematu laughed.

She took a step back and tripped over a fallen Alik’r fighter, her hands landing in blood and intestines, her arse landing on his legs.  She scrambled to her feet, her hands on the dead man’s boots, her brain scrambling for a way out of this…

And he was in her face, his blades on either side of her throat.

“I got you bitch.”  He hissed.

And then he felt a sharp stabbing in his armpit.  He saw the glint of satisfaction in her eyes and knew she had stabbed him.

Saadia had found a dagger in the boot of the dead Alik’r fighter, and as soon as Kematu had gotten close enough to gloat… she’d taken advantage of that. 

He sliced his scimitars across her throat, even as he felt that the dagger had pierced his lung. 

But his scimitars did not slice her throat.

“What sorcery?”  He whispered in awe. 

Saadia punched him in the face and he stumbled back.  She rose to her feet and took the invisible Masque of Clavicus Vile off.  She saw the understanding in his eyes; he’d never really had a clear shot at killing her. 

She smiled sadistically down at him as he lay on the floor looking up at her.

But he got to his feet and shook his head.

“You will not kill me, woman.”  He said, raising his scimitars.

“I’m bored with this now.”  Saadia said. 

“Bored-?” He looked utterly infuriated.

“FUS RO DAH!”  Saadia used all 3 words of her strongest Shout and Kematu was lifted off the ground and slammed back against the wall with such force that the bones breaking in his skull and body were audible. 

His body slid down the wall, leaving a trail of brains behind him as the light in his eyes extinguished.  Saadia felt a moment of sadness.  These were the first Redguard men she had met from Hammerfell.  She knew Redguard men from the Isle of Stirk of course… but this was different.  And Kematu had been a magnificent man… although-

“That’ll teach you to kiss me without permission.”  Saadia said to his corpse. 

She turned to see the last remaining Alik’r fighter; the archer, standing with his jaw dropped in horror, his eyes opened wide.

He turned to run.

Rayya threw a dagger from her boot at him. 

The dagger slammed into his throat and he fell, grasping at the weapon, dead almost as soon as he hit the floor. 

Rayya pulled a healing potion from her satchel and swallowed it as she went over to retrieve her dagger. 

“Why didn’t you just Shout at the beginning of the fight, my Thane?”  Rayya asked as she wiped the dagger on the dead man’s cloth head covering. 

“I have to keep my sword skills up.”  Saadia answered, resting the flat of her blade on her shoulder lazily. 

“I guess practice does make perfect.”  Rayya answered.  “But my armour needs tending now.”  She sighed as she pulled arrows out of her armour.

“Eorlund will take care of that for free.”  Saadia answered and Rayya cocked an eyebrow at her.  “One of the perks of being in the Companions.”  Saadia shrugged.

“Good.”  Rayya nodded, “Well, let’s loot, shall we?”

The Alik’r had a lot of gold and gems.  A lot. 

But it was a chest full of typical Hammerfell clothing that took Saadia’s attention.  Clothing from her people, from a homeland she’d never seen… She took as much as she could carry.

Iman wept when they told her Kematu was dead. 

“Thank you.”  She said earnestly, “Please take this.”  She handed Saadia a coin purse with 500 gold prices in it.  “I know it’s not much, but I couldn’t carry that much with me when I fled.  So I didn’t smuggle that much of my wealth over the border.”  She explained.  “I’m broke.”  She sighed.  “But I must give you something for saving my life.”  Saadia pocketed the coin purse with a nod of her head. 

“After a life of wealth and privilege, I imagine this is quite a different experience.”  Rayya noted and Iman shrugged.

“I don’t mind though.  I think it’s more honest than being a noble.”  She stirred the pot and Saadia sucked her teeth moodily, thinking of the next ‘quest’ she had to undertake.  “For now, I will maintain my ruse here, until I am sure that the coast is clear.  Then I will-”

“I want you to change your name.”  Saadia said, “Tell them you’re changing it to your middle name to avoid confusion with me, or your dead sister’s name to honour her, or something else, I don’t care.”  Saadia said, “But your name must be Iman.  I understand that you must hide, but don’t lose who you are.” 

Iman nodded slowly.

“You’re right.”  She said, “I’ll change my name in the next few days.” 

“Will you be safe here?”  Saadia asked.

“As safe as I can be anywhere.”  Iman answered.  “As long as they don’t send more Alik’r, I should be safe.”

“Will you stay in Whiterun?”

“I think so.”  She answered, “And you’ll always be welcome in the Bannered Mare my friend.”  She said, “Again, thank you.” 

 

***

 

After killing Caiche, Saadia had struggled to think of herself as Dragonborn; that seemed like such a heroic and noble thing to be, and she was not those things.  And never would be.  She didn’t mind that she wasn’t that way… until she thought of herself as Dragonborn. 

She thought she had fully accepted her identity as Dragonborn.  But after killing Caiche, she realised she obviously hadn’t, so she had put off going after the word of power in Volunruud that the Greybeards had told her about. 

But helping Iman had alleviated some of her struggle, and she was willing and ready to be the Dragonborn again. 

It was time to find the word of power in Volunruud that the Greybeards had told her about. 

She was ready to go back to being the Dragonborn.

The trip to Volunruud had been blissfully uneventful, except for seeing a frostbite spider out in the open for the first time.  She saw it kill an elk before she got close enough to hack its legs off, Rayya hanging back to make sure there were none hiding in the woods. 

It was a typical barrow; a mound, the top open to the sky, the stone spiral staircase leading down to the ground in the centre of the barrow, a door to get actually inside the barrow.  But this one also had burial urns in alcoves near the door.

“Let the looting begin early.”  Saadia mumbled, opening up the first urn to see gold and gems, and of course the ashes of some long dead Nord.  Saadia was careful to leave the ashes in the urn, but took the loot. 

She opened the door and went in, finding dusty old skeletons almost immediately; one strewn on the floor, the other sitting in a throne like chair.  There was also gold all over the floor, a shovel, and a journal near the skeleton on the floor.

Saadia picked up the old journal and wiped the dust off it before opening it to read the faded ink.

The journal-writer stated that they believed that this tomb was the tomb of Kvenel – a Tongue – a master of the Dragon Language.  The journal spoke of replica weapons of the Tongue’s real weapons that would open the way through to the tomb to Kvenel. 

She handed the journal to Rayya and picked up the gold, giving Tarryn a quick stroke as the cub moved around to look out of one of the viewing panes she’d had Farengar put into the pouch.  She’d let the cub out for a walk once they were safely out of the barrow.  Might even let her walk all the way home.  But for now, she had to stay in her pouch. 

“If Kvenel is down here in some sort of undead form, this is going to be a very hard fight.”  Rayya said. 

“Agreed.”  Saadia said, wondering what Shouts he’d know – if he’d know them all.  She suddenly felt very, very inexperienced.  A fool digging around in old tombs and ruins…

But she pushed that thought down and focussed her mind on the task at hand; they went on, down into the tomb.  And found a large room, with 4 paths leading off it.

This was unlike any tomb she had ever been in; usually they were fairly linear.

She looked at the paths; 2 were fairly unassuming looking tunnels, one had an ebony door, and the other was a grand set of doors, flung open, a set of stairs leading up to it. 

“We’ll do that one last.”  Saadia said nodding towards the stairs and Rayya nodded.  Saadia decided the unassuming tunnels would be their first ports of call. 

They headed down the trunnel to the left first.  It was filled with draugr and floor traps; as expected… Only these draugr were very powerful, with good armour and weapons and ice spells. 

“I hate Nordic burial practices.”  Saadia grumbled as they finished off another draugr before heading on.

“You’re half Nord, my Thane.”  Rayya noted, amused.

“I’m not when I’m in these damn things.”  She answered. 

They came to a room at the end of the tunnel.  There were 3 draugr protecting an open sarcophagus on the back wall of the room. 

Saadia Shouted flames at them, and they hacked them down as they burned.

In the sarcophagus was a long dead skeleton, a sword grasped in its hands.  Saadia took the sword, thinking of the replica sword required to open the way to Kvenel that she’d read about in the journal.  The skeleton turned to dust as soon as the sword was no longer in its grasp. 

They returned to the main chamber and went down the next assuming tunnel, Saadia expecting to find the replica axe she needed down this tunnel… only to have it end in a dead-end, a few urns and a chest against the far wall.  She searched the room closely, looking for the back entrance, feeling sure that it would come out here.  But she could find nothing, and she felt a rush of annoyance at Delphine again for being able to find the back doors. 

“Ugh, let’s go up the stairs.”  Rayya gave Saadia a quizzical look so she explained, “I know I said we’d do this one last, but in my experience, black doors are always a lot of trouble.”

They went up the stairs to see a Hall of Stories.  Saadia looked at the pictures etched into the walls closely.  One of them looked a little different; like there were snakes looking down on the deity being worshipped. 

She looked up at the big double doors, ebony, locked.  She could see 2 imprints on the doors; one to each door.  A sword.  And an axe. 

Saadia looked through the journal again and saw that through that door led to the Elder’s Cairn; where Kvenel was buried. 

She could also feel the pull of a Word Wall.  So she knew she had to get through this door.  She needed the axe.  She supposed it would be back behind the ebony door.

“To the ebony door, my Thane?”  Rayya asked and Saadia nodded slowly, still staring at the doors, the journal in her hand.  “You know, one of the first things I learned when I came to Skyrim was an old Nord saying: ‘don’t go near the black door.’  I never understood it until I became your housecarl.” 

“Sometimes the old sayings are the wisest sayings.”  Saadia said, “Pity I’m not wise enough to follow their advice.” 

“A pity, except when the loot is good.”  Rayya said with a grin, “my Thane.” 

They headed back through the main room and opened the black door.

“Oh look, catacombs.”  Saadia said in mock surprise.  “I did not expect that.”

“And look, draugr!”  Rayya added in the same sarcastic tone, “Who would have thought we’d run into them down here!”

“Whatever will we do?”  Saadia said as she raised her greatsword.

They cut their way through the draugr, Saadia again noticing that these opponents were much tougher than previous draugr she’d encountered. 

They came to the final room, only after a few short corridors, and Saadia saw the replica axe on a weapon plaque above a throne.  A large draugr was sitting on the throne, her eyes glaring at them, two other patrolled the small room.  Saadia saw the three trap plates on the floor in the small room as the draugr on the throne stood up. 

“FUS!”  The draugr Shouted pushing Rayya back forcefully, Saadia managing to kept her feet; Shouts didn’t affect her as strongly as they affected other people. 

The two other draugr turned to glare at them

“FUS!”  they both Shouted at the same time, the force of the dual Shout pushing Saadia back, Rayya hid behind a rock column. 

“I don’t like draugr that can Shout.”  Rayya grumbled.

“Not my favourite thing either.”  Saadia agreed, standing up.

“FUS RO DAH!”  Her Shout blasted them all back against the wall. 

Saadia and Rayya started to head towards them, to hack them while they were down. 

Two of the draugr crumpled down the wall, but the third fell forward off the wall, its hand smacking down on the floor trap closest to it.

Hundreds of spikes exploded up out of small holes in the floor – the whole floor was trapped with spikes. 

Saadia and Raya jumped back just in time, but the draugr on the floor was impaled. 

The spikes stayed up because the draugr’s hand was still on the trap, and the other 2 draugr paced uneasily on the throne platform, wanting to get to them to kill them. 

Saadia tried to figure out a way to get to the axe. 

“I could try to hit the hand with an arrow.”  Rayya said, also considering the issue.  “Try to knock it off the trap.”  Rayya’s archery was marginally better than Saadia’s.  If Lydia was here, the shot would be easy for her. 

“I’ll just Shout again.”  Saadia said, hoping this would work.  “FUS RO DAH!”  She aimed her Voice at the dead draugr and it broke into pieces, releasing the trap, the spikes receding back into the floor. 

Saadia and Rayya were still reluctant to cross the floor; one accident and they’d both be impaled. 

Silently they agreed to let the draugr cross the floor to them.

“FUS!”  They both Shouted, Rayya was again knocked back, swearing loudly.  But Saadia managed to hold her footing. 

The draugr rushed towards them, one with a double handed war-axe running at Saadia, the other with a sword, its hand held out, an ice spell shooting out of its palm at Saadia while it rushed towards Rayya with its sword held high. 

Saadia ducked the spell and slammed her sword through the midriff of the axe wielding draugr, intending to cut it in half.  But her sword got lodged in its spine.

“Sword needs sharpening.”  She grunted as she put her foot on the draugr’s chest and pulled her sword out.  The draugr fell to the ground and she turned to see Rayya finishing off the other draugr.  “I’ll get the axe.”  Saadia said, not wanting to risk Rayya’s life on that floor, even though it was probably quite safe now. 

After Saadia retrieved the axe, they headed back towards the double ebony doors, Saadia looking at the replica axe and sword.  They just looked like ordinary, low quality weapons, with blunt edges. 

She handed the sword to Rayya and the women placed the weapons in the indented parts of the doors. 

Instantly, they seemed to stick to the door, both Saadia and Rayya pulling their hands away as there was a series of loud clicks.  The 2 big round door handles on the doors pulled downwards, though neither woman had touched them, and the doors slowly creeped open.  As soon as the door was opened Saadia could feel the Word calling to her.  She focussed on getting to the Word Wall safely, rather than on the Word itself.

“Ah, a corridor.”  Saadia said with a grim grin as they stepped through the doors.  It seemed like an average Nord ruin. 

Until she heard a strange fluttering crackling sound. 

They crept up the corridor, listening to the sound growing louder, until it was unmistakeably the roar of fire. 

They turned a corner in the tunnel and were quite suddenly looking into a room where dozens of people kneeled in a prayer position… only they were all completely burned to death.  Every one of them dead, pink flesh burned, frozen in prayer for who knew how long. 

“How long have they been here like this?”  Rayya whispered, noting that the flesh was still moist, not like the dried, hardened flesh of the draugr.  “Why are they so well preserved?”

“I don’t know.”  Saadia answered in a low voice, keeping her eyes on the bodies; worried they’d come back to life.  “Magic… very gruesome magic.”  She supposed out loud. 

They killed a few draugr and continued until they came to another turn in the tunnel.

“Trouble ahead.”  Rayya said softly as they crept forward to peer around the corner. 

There was a ghostly figure sitting in a throne on a throne platform, looking out over a small cavern.  They could see a few draugr overlords patrolling the room, several draugr archers against the side wall.  She could hear a soft chanting - the Word Wall was very, very close.  Perhaps in the next room. 

“Kvenel?”  Saadia asked and Rayya nodded, her eyes on the ghostly figure.

“Yes I think so, my Thane.” 

“We have to assume all the draugr can Shout.”  Saadia said, “And that a Tongue will be quite an opponent…”

“This is going to be quite a fight…” Rayya agreed.  “You focus on Kvenel.”  She said, “I won’t stand a chance against a Tongue.”

“You sell yourself short.”  Saadia answered.

“I’ll be taking out all the archers.”  Rayya replied. 

“And we’ll deal with the draugr overlords between us.”  Saadia said, “Assuming all goes to plan.”

“It won’t.”

“I know.”  Saadia crept into the room slightly, “I’ll shout first, put the archers down, then you can take over there.” 

“Agreed, my Thane.” 

Saadia crept from the opening of the room to a stony column nearby, hiding behind it she took aim at the archers.

“FUS RO DAH!”  The archers went flying, an overlord going with them. 

Kvenel and the remaining overlords turned to her.

Kvenel Shouted all three words of an ice spike and a brutal spike of ice flew at her head, freezing the very air it touched, leaving behind it a deadly trail of frost, and shattering the column she was hiding behind when it impacted with it. 

“By the Gods.”  Saadia muttered as she rolled away.

“FUS RO!”  An overlord Shouted, pushing her back, her feet scraping along the ground until she no longer could hold her feet and fell back. 

And then Kvenel was upon her; he was fast.  He slammed his axe into her armour, harder than any blow she’d experienced, in her ribs.  She felt bones cracking and gritted her teeth, scrambling to her feet and ducking the follow up blow from Kvenel’s sword.

She heard Rayya cry out and saw an arrow sticking out of her shoulder; either these draugr were using high quality arrows or they were strong enough to put any arrow through armour.  Saadia suspected the latter. 

She slammed her greatsword into Kvenel and he howled with laughter.  Her sword did little damage.

“Gods no…”  Saadia whispered as she realised that this tomb might end up being her final resting place.

He came at her with both weapons, crushing, brutal blows, shuddering through Saadia’s body as she blocked them with her sword.  He was gaining, pushing her back.

And then he Shouted, another frost spike shooting from his mouth.

“FEIM!”  Saadia shouted reflexively and she became ethereal, the ice spike going right through her and hitting the wall behind her, sending shivers through the rocks, an ominous groaning response coming from the stone. 

Saadia breathed heavily, her ribs screaming in pain, Kvenel’s blade swiping right through her non-corporeal form. 

He spoke in Ancient Nord, or Dragon Tongue; Saadia could not tell.  But she knew he was amused. 

She swung her sword around at him, only to find it went right through him.  She could not be harmed like this, but she also couldn’t do any harm. 

She willed herself corporeal again and brought her sword back, hitting Kvenel hard. 

But he was already swinging at her again.  His axe hit the stone column behind her head when she ducked and smashed it to pieces. 

“By the Gods.”  Saadia swore, leaping away from the sword swing that followed. 

“FUS RO!”  She looked up to see Rayya slam against the wall; the draugr having Shouted at her.  But there were also a few dead archers on the floor.  And then she saw the archers taking aim at Rayya, while Kvenel started to swing his axe at Saadia’s head again. 

Rayya was incapacitated, she couldn’t block the arrows; they’d all hit her…

“FUS RO DAH!”  Saadia Shouted, hoping…

Kvenel was thrown backwards, the arrows that had been sailing through the air at Rayya were all thrown off course.  Saadia ran after Kvenel, running past Rayya as she shook her head and got to her feet. 

He was on the floor, groaning and Saadia hacked at him with her sword, she stabbed him as he got up, not even bothering to block her blows.  And then he slammed his sword against her gauntlet, breaking her left forearm. 

Saadia grunted in pain and rolled away, gripping her greatsword in her right hand. 

But he was on her again, his axe swinging at her head, the Masque of Clavicus Vile the only thing preserving her life.  The room spun, and her ears rang, Saadia fell to her knees, consciousness threatening to leave her.

“FEIM!”  She said as she collapsed onto her side, fighting to cling to consciousness.  Kvenel stood over her laughing.  She heard Rayya screaming, bellowing in rage and turned her eyes to see another arrow sticking out of her friend; this one from her stomach.

And Kvenel was speaking again, he was gloating.  She didn’t need to understand the words to hear the tone in his ghostly voice. 

He spoke again and suddenly a huge lumbering ice blue beast was in the room with them: a Frost Atronach.  A Daedra made of stone and ice, 8 feet tall, its arms hanging to the floor, it’s head a faceless mass of ice.  Saadia had heard that some people could summon Daedra to fight for them, but she had never seen one of these low-level Daedra in person. 

She saw one of the draugr overlords shouting a frost spell at Rayya, freezing her, slowing her down.  She saw the Frost Atronach approach her and felt the chill of its presence start to sap at her stamina and will to live. 

Even ethereal, Kvenel found a way to hurt her. 

Saadia gritted her teeth and got herself to her feet.  She grunted in agony as she forced her left hand to grip her great sword, focussed her mind and became corporeal again, slamming her sword into the frost atronach, chipping off part of it.  She ducked its blow and then had to jump over Kvenel’s low swinging sword, only to find that the other draugr overlords had decided to join the party, hitting her with a frost Shout. 

“YOL!”  She shouted on instinct and watched the frost atronach begin to melt, the draugr overlords on fire… and Kvenel dodged.

It was the only attack he’d even bothered to try to dodge. 

But the partially melted frost atronach brought its huge fist down towards her head, Saadia raising her sword to block it, while the draugr again hit her with frost, even as they burned… and Kvenel saw his opening, stabbing his sword right through her stomach. 

Saadia buckled, and Kvenel kneed her in the face, blood exploding from her mouth as she fell back.  She looked up at the ceiling, blood dribbling from her mouth, one hand over her stomach wound, the other holding her sword. 

Kvenel looked down on her, laughing.  He got close to her, whispering something evil…

“YOL!”  She Shouted in his face and he screeched.  Saadia clambered to her feet, “I’m not dead yet you decrepit horker-fucking maggot!”  She said, spitting blood.  She slammed her sword into him as many times as she could, blood pouring from her stomach, her broken bones aching, her body slowing as the draugr overlords shot frost Shouts at her, the Frost Atronach bringing its fists down on her back. 

Kvenel swung his axe, hitting her upper left arm, smashing the bone brutally, but she ducked the sword.  She swung her great sword around, single handed at the frost atronach, decapitating it.

“YOL!”  She Shouted at Kvenel again, ignoring the draugr.  The draugr slowed her movements, but they didn’t stop her, and right now, they were actually helping her, by slowing down her bleeding with their frost spells.  The Frost Atronach continued to belt her on the back; apparently it didn’t need its head. 

Kvenel screamed again and Saadia continued to hit him with her greatsword, screaming her way through her rage and agony. 

He swung out with his sword first this time, hitting her in the ribs again.  She took the blow; she knew she couldn’t be fast enough to miss his first blow when she was frosted like this.  But she missed his second blow, ducking and again swinging her great sword at the frost atronach, taking off one of its arms.  And this time she also had time to behead one of the draugr overlords. 

Saadia knew she was running purely on adrenalin, and if she hadn’t finished off her enemies before her adrenalin ran out, she was surely dead.  Saadia didn’t know that it was a particular trait of her Redguard blood to be flooded with adrenalin and stamina when battle injuries became severe.  Many a Redguard warrior had survived a battle they should have lost because of this quality they all shared, passed down from their Yokuda forebears. 

Kvenel brought his axe and sword swinging towards her simultaneously; it was a death blow, intended to cut her in half.

“FEIM!”  Saadia Shouted at the last second, Kvenel’s weapons sailing through her.  And as soon as they passed through her she forced herself corporeal again.  “YOL!”  She was utterly drained; she didn’t know if she would have enough energy to Shout again, normally she couldn’t Shout this close together, but her adrenalin was-

Kvenel stared at her, the fire surging through his ghostly form… and he fell to his knees, and then onto his face.  Saadia swung her sword down hard, beheading him, just to be sure.  The frost atronach winked into non-existence the moment Kvenel died.

She brought her sword around and hacked at the other draugr overlord attacking her, grunting, desperately trying to hold onto her energy; Rayya had dealt with the archers, but the final draugr overlord had just snapped her leg like a twig… Saadia had to get to her. 

She stabbed her draugr through the neck and whipped her sword out sideways, half beheading it, leaping over its falling body before running to Rayya’s aid.  She tackled the draugr and as soon as she had it on the ground she head butted it; the Masque of Clavicus Vile caving the draugr’s skull in.

Saadia looked around, barely able to hold herself up.  They had won…  She sheathed her sword and looked over to Rayya, crumpled in a heap near the wall. 

She crawled over to Rayya, blood dripping from her wounds, her left arm unwilling to hold her weight, and sat down beside her, helping her sit up.  They sat leaning against the wall, staring out at the cavern.  There was a treasure chest, armour and weapon racks… the chanting of the Wall calling to her.

Blood was pooling around them.  Rayya pulled the arrow out of her shoulder and grunted in pain.  She looked down at the arrow in her stomach and laughed sadly. 

She took a health potion from her satchel and handed it to Saadia.

“It is my last one.”  She said, “And it is an honour to give my life for you, my Thane.”  Every word was a challenge, and Saadia could tell that Rayya had a lung wound; perhaps an arrow in the back, or a sword stab…

Saadia understood; they were both dying from their wounds, and Rayya was giving up her life for her Thane. 

“No.”  Saadia said simply and handed it back, “I order you to take that potion.”

“You’ve never given me a direct order like that before.”  Rayya whispered.

“I’m doing it now, and you’re sworn to-”

“To protect you with my life!”  Rayya answered, “And I will!” 

“I’ll be fine.  I’ve been blessed by Akatosh and Kynareth.”  Saadia answered, “You’ve seen my fast healing with your own eyes.  I just need sleep.  Drink the damn potion Rayya.” 

“You can heal from this?”  Rayya asked in awe.

“Yes.”  Saadia answered, but she wasn’t entirely sure she could.  The itching hadn’t started and these were the worst injuries she’d ever had.  She looked down at her sword wound; she’d lost so much blood, and she could see intestines poking out from the hole in her armour.  She put her hand over them and closed her eyes.  “Just let me sleep, and I’ll heal.”  She said to herself, trying to soothe herself.  She was afraid to die; she wasn’t ready.  But she had long ago accepted that her death would come young. 

“A housecarl cannot live without her Thane…”  Rayya said softly.

“You won’t have to.”  Saadia answered, “And I will need someone to guard me on my way home after I wake up because I won’t be fully healed.  Take the potion.”  Rayya stared at her for a long moment and then nodded.

“Blessed by the Gods…”

“That’s me.”  Saadia whispered, closing her eyes.

“Yes, my Thane.”  Rayya took the potion and leaned back against the wall, feeling the potion starting to do its work. 

Saadia leaned against the wall, darkness creeping into her vision, coldness seeping through her whole being, as she heard Rayya’s breath grow long and deep; Rayya was asleep. 

And Saadia was dying. 

 

 

 


	13. Part 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Question: I put up previews of the next installment on Tumblr, do you want me to do that over here as well? It'd just be a small thing added to the end of the chapter - a section taken from the next part. Let me know if you have an opinion on the matter, or any questions regarding the length of the story etc. Cheers!

 Saadia walked through darkness.

“Where is this?”

She turned as she walked, looking around, seeing nothing. 

She heard a loud thrumming, a beating of the air like a drum.

“Dragon…”  She whispered, looking around, trying to find it… but still she saw nothing.  She reached for her greatsword and felt nothing there but cloth.  She was wearing a brown, ragged tunic, that fell to her mid-thigh.  Her hair was loose, wild and flowing down her back.

She looked down at herself and saw blood staining her tunic, dripping down her front.  She put her hand to her stomach and felt her intestines.

“Oh Gods… I’m dying.”  She cried softly.  “I’m dying… Kynareth… Akatosh…”  She looked into the darkness, “I’m sorry I wasted your gifts.”  She whispered, closing her eyes and felt the rush of air as the Dragon passed her, hearing the beating of its wings as it circled around.

“My child…”  She heard a soft, soothing, woman’s voice and opened her eyes.  She saw a woman in a long green dress, as green as the grass and the trees.  And over that an open flowing blue robe, like the oceans and the sky… Saadia looked at her face with wonder; it seemed to glow with light.  But she couldn’t tell the woman’s race, it seemed to change, like the woman was in a constant state of flux.  But her long raven hair remained the same; flowing behind her as though there was a soft breeze always upon her, even though Saadia could feel not even the hint of wind. 

As she walked, her clothes flowed like the wind, her hands outstretched to Saadia.  And as she got closer, Saadia saw she was Redguard, like her.  No wait she was Nord, like her… no, she was Redguard… Saadia’s brows creased with confusion. 

And then she was close enough for Saadia to feel her breath on her face.  It was fresh and clean and invigorating like a cool breeze on a hot day.  It was warm and comforting like a warm breeze on a cold day…

The woman put her hands on Saadia’s cheeks.

“You will not die my child.”  She said softly and gently kissed Saadia on the forehead. 

Saadia looked down at her stomach and saw no more blood.  She felt for her intestines but could feel nothing.  She looked up but the woman was gone, the beating of the Dragon’s wings grew louder for a moment, and then all was silent.

“Kyna-”

-//-

“-reth…”  Saadia awoke with the Goddess’s name on her lips.  She stared at the Wall for a moment, hearing the chant of the Word Wall.  And then she looked down at her bloody midriff.  Gingerly she felt for her intestines, to find smooth, healed skin.  She tightened her left hand into a fist and felt that the bones weren’t completely healed yet, but they had begun to mend.  She took a deep breath and felt the same from her ribs.  She didn’t know how long she’d been asleep, but she knew it was at least a full day.

She turned to Rayya and put her hand on her neck, feeling for a pulse.  There was a slow steady pulse; the healing potion had done its work, keeping her alive… but she was far from healed. 

Saadia got to her feet, the room spinning as she did so.

“Oh…”  She groaned and took her greatsword out to use as a kind of cane.  “Eorlund is going to kill me.”  She said as she steadied herself using her sword. 

She shuffled over to the Word Wall and received its gift: Laas.  It meant life… this wasn’t a Shout; it was a Whisper… she would be able to detect life around her with this Whisper; even through walls. 

She went to the ghostly remains of Kvenel and took his axe and sword; she would put them up on her wall to remind her of this battle. 

She fed Tarryn as she collected the gold and gems from the chests, ignoring the heavy armour and weapons.  She’d never be able to carry them when she had to carry Rayya. 

Saadia went back to Rayya and picked her up, heaving her over her right shoulder.  There was no back exit from this tomb.  It was unusually compact and unlike any other tomb she’d ever been to. 

And she’d be happy to leave it behind. 

 

***

 

“I want you to have half of the loot we found in Kvenel’s tomb.”  Saadia said and Rayya nodded.

“Alright, my Thane.”

“Lydia refused!”  Saadia laughed. 

“Well we’re not supposed to talk about it, but honestly, my wages from Jarl Siddgeir aren’t very good.  And everyone knows that the Whiterun warriors get the best wages.  Even better than Solitude.”

“Doesn’t surprise me.”  Saadia answered; Jarl Balgruuf was a good man.  “Siddgeir said they don’t provide furniture for you either.”  She noted; Lydia had been provided for in every way.  New weapons and armour twice a year, free regular blacksmith visits, furniture and clothing as well as a wage.  Siddgeir seemed loathe to even give a small wage to his staff. 

“Dengeir was better in that regard.”  Rayya said and reached down to scratch her leg; the break was mending and the skin over it was itching terribly.

“Zaria said not to touch it.”  Saadia reminded her and Rayya sighed.  “I’m glad you’re awake.  I was getting worried.”  She said.  She had carried Rayya to Zaria’s home in Falkreath and Zaria had been tending Rayya’s wounds since.  Saadia had set about to getting Rayya’s room at Lakeview Manor furnished.  Once that had been completed, she’d moved Rayya out to the manor to heal at home.

“We Redguard women are tougher than that.”  Rayya answered, “Although I’m afraid these wounds will put me out of action for a while.”  She fretted.

“That’s alright Rayya, I need you here to protect Lakeview Manor; I’ll be getting Faendal and Camilla to come out in the next few days so they can start putting furniture in.  I want this to be a home.” 

 

***

 

“We can sell some wood to the mills.”  Faendal put a hand on a tall tree.

“I want to keep most of the land forested.”  Saadia answered.

“I’m an Elf – you don’t need to worry about that.  I’ll put aside just a small section of land for wood production.  I can make the trees grow tall quickly.”  He intimated. 

“Magic.”  Saadia said.

“Earth magic.”  He agreed, “Good magic.” 

“And I want some farming done here.”  She said pointing to the land near the cottage.

“Good land.”  Camilla noted.  “I’ll get a lot of food out of this.  There’ll be plenty for the house and to sell.”

“It’s a really beautiful bit of land.”  Hadvar said surprised, “I’d have thought land like this would be in Whiterun Hold.”

“It almost is.”  Faendal said. 

“Gorgeous cottage.”  Camilla noted. 

“Yes…”  Saadia said, “Um… you might want to stay outside while Hadvar and I go in?”  Saadia said, “Then after we’ve had a chat, I’ll show you around.”

“Is this where the bandits worked?”  Faendal asked and Saadia nodded. 

“I’m not afraid.”  Camilla said, “If this cottage is to be our home, I will need to see everything.” 

“Alright.”  Saadia said and took them in.

“It’s a good size.”  Camilla said and turned to Hadvar, “You make sure you look after it.” 

“I will.”  He reassured her. 

It had been agreed that Hadvar would move into the cottage for the next 6 weeks to clean out the underground tomb.  He only had 6 weeks until he had to go back to active duty, so he’d have to work hard and fast to clear the bodies and find their families to return their goods to them. 

Then Faendal would come and seal up the wall and move in; living alone until the wedding, when Camilla would move in with him.  He would keep his cottage in Riverwood and rent it out for a second source of income. 

Saadia took them down the secret passageway to the bandits’ lair and showed them the sheer size of the operation they’d had here.  Camilla stood with her hand over her mouth, tears in her eyes.  But Hadvar, while clearly as appalled as Camilla and Faendal, was all business, taking notes about the scale and logistics of the task ahead of him.  He had already sent couriers to all the Jarls asking for records of missing citizens and missing travelling trades-people; they would be arriving any day now.  He had even put in a request in Windhelm; to Ulfric Stormcloak, hoping he would have the decency to ignore the civil war and send him the information, even though Hadvar was on the Imperial’s side. 

“You know…”  Camilla said, still covering her mouth, “With a bit of work and… a lot… of cleaning, we could turn this into a cheese making factory.”  She said, her eyes scanning the first room.  “We’d have to put another external exit in, it would be expensive… but I think we could do it in the next 5 years or so.” 

“It’s up to you.”  Saadia answered, “I’m counting on you two to make my land profitable, and to keep it beautiful.  There’s also smithing stations for making weapons to sell.”  She noted, “Clay pits near the lake, if any of you like to make plates or cups for sale.” 

“Perhaps.”  Camilla said thoughtfully, looking around.  “There’s so much potential.”  She said, “But I have to get out of this smell.”  She said, heading back to the door.

“I’ll hang back and continue to through to the end.”  Hadvar said, “I need to get the full picture.”

“Thanks.”  Saadia said and accompanied Camilla and Faendal back up to the cottage.

“And I will want it sealed, so our home doesn’t go down there.”  Camilla added and both Faendal and Saadia nodded.  “But the temperature down there is good, and it’ll be constant all year round.  It’s perfect for cheese making.” 

“Perhaps I can start building the new entrance to it while I live here alone?”  Faendal asked and Camilla nodded.  “I do want our home to be ready for you for when you move in.” 

“You are so thoughtful.”  She took his hand, he gave her a loving smile and then turned his attention to Saadia.

“My friend, what improvements can I make to the cottage?”  He asked.

“Pretty much whatever you want.”:  Saadia said, “As long as you don’t make it too much bigger.”

“I was simply thinking, a third storey.”  He replied.

“Go for it.  And add your own outhouse if you don’t want to use the one near the stables.”  Saadia answered, “It’s a bit far away really.” 

“We may be able to use the second room of those ruins as a sewerage pit.”  Faendal said and Saadia gave him a quizzical look.  “The gas from the rotting sewerage can be used to light our homes.”  He said, “And after it has fully rotted down it can be used to enrich fallow fields.” 

“Oh yes I’ve heard they’re doing that in Solitude.”  Camilla said, “Getting twice as many crops.” 

“You cannot put it on growing fields as it burns the crops and is unsanitary.  But on fallow fields it encourages healthy insects to the soil and enriches it, ensuring the next crop will be strong.”  Faendal noted. 

“Whatever you think is best.”  Saadia answered, “I know nothing about farming… or sewerage…”  She turned towards the manor.  “Anyway, I was hoping you could help me get furniture for my home.”  She said.

“Of course.”  Camilla answered, “Show me your home.” 

She walked them through the woods to her home. 

It looked like a small step pyramid now that she had put the framework in for a small third storey.  Each floor was smaller than the one it stood on, the difference in size made up with balconies.  The ground floor was huge.  The 1st floor was smaller, with balconies on three sides overlooking the lake and forest, and the top floor was smaller still with just the one balcony overlooking the lake.  The huge open-aired balconies were stunning, and Camilla went up the outside stairs to stand on the one overlooking the lake.

“It’s so beautiful.”  She sighed. 

“You’re welcome to sit on the balcony whenever you want.”  Saadia told her. 

“Oh I will!”  Camilla laughed. 

“Alright, so I guess we’re going in on the first floor.”  Saadia said as she took them in.  “That’s Lucia’s room.”  She pointed to the left.  “Servants room, with Rayya’s private room on the end.”  She noted, “Put a few extra beds in Lucia’s room; in case she wants friends to come and stay.” 

“Of course.”  Camilla said.  Faendal leaned on the railing overlooking the huge main hall.

“Upstairs will be my room.”  Saadia said, pointing at the stairs at the other end of the balcony.  “Downstairs.”  Saadia led them downstairs.  “Kitchen.”  She pointed to the huge room on the left, “With access to a cellar for a cold storage room.”  She pointed to the right, “bathing room... I do have water piped in but I don’t know what else to do from there.”  She furrowed her brows.  “I also want a door to an outhouse there.”

“Easily done.”  Faendal nodded, “I love building… I’ll probably hand make all your furniture.”  He sounded excited.

“And I’ll design them!”  Camilla said.

“Of course – you know Saadia better than I!”  Faendal agreed.  “I assume this middle room is the feast room!”  Faendal noted and pointed to the wall that separated this room from the next, “Fireplace?”

“Yes.”  Saadia agreed.  “Entrance hall.”  She pointed to the front door, “I don’t know what I’ll use this little room for…”  She said as they went to the room behind where the fireplace would go, “but this one off it is for a library.” 

“Perhaps an alchemy room?”  Camilla asked. 

“Alright.”  Saadia nodded and pointed to the floor.  “That’s my cellar.  I’ll keep it locked because I’ll be keeping dangerous weapons down there.”

“Like an armoury.”  Camilla noted.  “And we should keep trophies and mementos of your battles all over the house.”  She said looking at the blank walls. 

“We can put an enchanters table in here with an alchemy table.”  Faendal said looking at the smaller room and then looking into the library room. 

“The rooms over the stable will also need furniture.”  Saadia added, “It’s not a small task I’ve given you.  And you’ll have to keep the books balanced and run this estate.”  Saadia said, “And make sure everyone, including yourselves, get a fair wage.”

“I’m so excited!”  Camilla said happily. 

They headed outside and quite suddenly a ragged looking man with wild, flowing blond hair ran up to them.  He shoved a shield into Saadia’s hands.

“Hold onto this or else.”  He said. 

“What?”  Saadia asked.

“No time to talk.  Lose it or snitch, and I’ll kill you.”  He said and ran off.

Before they had time to react a man came running up.

“Have you seen a man-”

“I presume this is yours?”  She asked handing him the shield.

“Yes... How did you-?”  He looked up at her.  “Thank you.”

“That’s fine.”  Saadia said, “He went that way.  Now get him off my land.  I don’t care how.” 

“Yes Ma’am!”  He agreed and ran off after the thief. 

“You’re going to need security out here.”  Faendal noted.

“Rayya is in charge of security; you listen to her in that regard.  And give her what she needs.”

“We may have to hire a few people.”  Camilla said, and then looked at Faendal, “Although, you can just call the animals and we’ll be safe.”  She took his arm and put her head on his shoulder. 

“Bandits will think a place like this is ripe for looting.”  Faendal said and Saadia laughed.

“It’s empty!”  She laughed. 

“But it won’t be for much longer.”  Faendal said. 

“Well that’s why I’m glad I’ve got Rayya in charge of security.”  Saadia said. 

 

***

 

That night Saadia went for a long walk, just wondering around the beauty of Skyrim, and she ran into an old Khajiit wanderer, clothed in a robe and happily walking along without a care in the world. 

“Hello.”  Saadia said as she approached and he turned to her.

“M’aiq wishes you well.”  He said. 

“And I wish you well.”  Saadia was just glad that this wasn’t going to end up being a fight, like so many chance meetings on the road ended up being.  “How are you this night?”

“M’aiq is always well.”  The old cat answered, “Much snow in Skyrim.”  He noted, looking up at the snowy mountains, “Enough snow.  M'aiq does not want any more.”  And they started walking along the road together.

“It does take some getting used to.”  Saadia agreed, “But I used to read about snow in my father’s books and wish I could see it…” 

“M'aiq does not remember his childhood, perhaps he never had one.”  He answered thoughtfully. 

“Khajiit have kittens…”  Saadia said, “The moons affect how you’ll look don’t they?”

“M'aiq's father was also called M'aiq.”  He answered, “As was M'aiq's father's father.  At least, that's what his father said.”

“Really?”  Saadia asked, not sure that M’aiq was having the same conversation she was.  “And what brings M’aiq to Skyrim?”

“M'aiq has heard that the people of Skyrim are better looking than the ones in Cyrodiil.  He has no opinion on the matter.  All people are beautiful to him.”

“That’s a nice way to be.”  Saadia answered. 

“But Nords are so serious about beards.”  Saadia broke out into laughter, But M’aiq maintained a serious countenance, “So many beards.  M'aiq thinks they wish they had glorious manes like Khajiit.”

“I am positive they do!”  Saadia said still laughing.  “Or fur like a wolf or a bear!” 

“Werebears?”  He asked, “Where?  Bears?  Men that are bears?”

“Or men that are wolves.”  Saadia said, wondering if this old cat was as foolish as he seemed, or far wiser than she could imagine. 

“M'aiq knows much, and tells some.”  He said giving her a knowing look, “M'aiq knows many things others do not.”

“I’m sure you do.”  She said thoughtfully.

“Nords' armour has lots of fur.  This sometimes makes M'aiq nervous.”  He added.

“I’m not surprised.  Maybe you should walk around with skin armour.”  She said and it was M’aiq’s turn to laugh; a deep throaty chuckle.  “But I am sure you’re quite safe in this part of Skyrim.”  Saadia added. 

“The people of Skyrim are more open-minded about certain things than people in other places.”

“That they are.”  Saadia agreed, “And more closed-minded about other things.”

“M'aiq loves the people of Skyrim.  Many interesting things they say to each other.”  He said giving her a look.

“I bet you’ve heard much.” 

They stared at each other for a moment, and Saadia was now sure that M’aiq was in fact incredibly wise. 

“M'aiq once walked to High Hrothgar.”  He said meaningfully, “So many steps, he lost count!” 

“I did too!”  Saadia said, thinking that she really should visit the Greybeards again; to get the location of another word of power. 

“M'aiq does not understand what is so impressive about Shouting.”  He said as if reading her mind.  Saadia, looked at him with awe, “M'aiq can shout whenever he wants.”

“I think it might be a different type of shouting.”  Saadia said slowly, not sure what M’aiq had meant, “Dragons-”

“Dragons were never gone.”  He told her and Saadia was again convinced that this cat knew a lot, “They were just invisible, and very, very quiet.”

“Some say they were slumbering, awaiting Alduin.”  She answered.

“Some say Alduin is Akatosh.”  He replied and Saadia furrowed her brow; but Akatosh was the one to bless Humans with Dragon Blood, “Some say M'aiq is a liar.”  He added with a shrug, “Don't you believe either of those things.”

“I won’t.”  She said firmly. 

“M'aiq was soul trapped once.”  He said as if in answer, “Not very pleasant.  You should think about that once in a while.”

“I don’t really do a lot of magic, or enchanting…”  Saadia knew that soul trapping had something to do with magic and enchanting weapons. 

“Too much magic can be dangerous.”  He told her seriously, “M'aiq once had two spells and burned his sweet roll.”

“A tragedy.”  Saadia said and M’aiq laughed again, “But you don’t have to worry about me and magic!”  She said simply, “I’ll probably never use it.”  M’aiq gave her an unreadable look – as if he had looked into her future and could tell her otherwise. 

“M'aiq carries two weapons, to be safe.  What if one breaks?  That would be most unlucky.”

“I have been thinking of carrying a dagger in my boot.”  Saadia admitted, “I do have a bow, but it’s no good for close range fighting; mostly because I’m not that good with it.”  She admitted. 

“M'aiq hears many stories of war... yet few of them are true.”

“You know about the civil war?”  She asked, “Who’s side would you take?” 

He gave her a small smile.

“M'aiq saw a mudcrab the other day.  Horrible creatures!”  He said in a deliberate tone.

“Not going to help me out there, eh?”  She asked.  “I just don’t know which side to take, and I know eventually I’ll-”

“It does not matter to M'aiq how strong or smart one is.  It only matters what one can do.”  He told her, putting his hand on her upper arm.  She stopped and looked at him, feeling like there was something important in what he had said.  “M’aiq is tired now.”  He said and sat down in the bushes beside the road.  Saadia opened her mouth to say something, but the cat turned away and curled up to sleep. 

She watched him for a moment; surely it was dangerous to sleep out here…?

But she had a feeling he’d be just fine. 

She headed home. 

 

***

 

Stepping through the gates to Whiterun city always felt good. 

She went straight home, to see Lucia at the desk with a book open, Lydia making sandwiches. 

“Hey mama!”  Lucia said excitedly and got up to give her a hug. 

“My Thane!”

“Hey Lydia.”  She said hugging Lucia tightly, “It’s good to see you both.”

“You weren’t gone so long this time.”  Lucia said.

“I promised I’d tried to be back soon.”  She answered as Lucia went back to the desk and her books.  “What you got there?”  Saadia asked and sat down at the table with her, Meeko nudging her hand for some love.  She stroked Meeko’s head, fed Tarryn one-handed, and looked at Lucia’s book.

“I’m trying to learn all the races of Tamriel.”  Lucia answered.  “Entomologically speaking there are three races: Human, Mer and Beastfolk.”  She said, “Humans are further broken down into the following races…”  She paused in thought, “The Nords of Skyrim, the Redguard of Hammerfell, the Imperials of Cyrodiil, the Bretons of High Rock.”

“Doing great.”  Saadia told her, opening another bottle of milk for Tarryn. 

“The Mer are the Elven races…”  Lucia gave another thoughtful pause, “The Bosmer of Valenwood, the Dunmer of Morrowind, The Altmer of the Summerset Isles, and the Orsimer of Orsinium.”  She tried not to look down at the book, “And the Beastfolk are the Khajiit of Elsweyr… and…. The… Argonians?”  She paused, “From… The Black Marsh?”

“Very good.”  Lydia told her, “I can never remember them all.” 

“What are the Human names for the elves?”  Saadia asked her.

“Um… The Bosmer are Wood Elves…” Lucia said, “Altmer are High Elves, Dunmer are Dark elves and Orsimer are… Orcs?” 

“That’s right.”  Saadia answered.  “You’re doing great.”

“And the Bretons are sometimes called Manmeri, because they are part Elf.”  Lucia said with a big grin; she had been struggling to remember all of this. 

“Impressive.”  Lydia said.

“I still have to learn how everything was made.”  Lucia said.  “And all that stuff.”

“Well,” Saadia said, gently laying Tarryn on the table, the little cub sleeping peacefully now.  She picked up a sandwich and gave Lydia a grateful node, “Mundus is this plane of existence that we’re in.”  She said, “It encompasses our planet Nirn, our moons Masser and Secunda, the sun, the other planets we can see in the sky.  And it’s surrounded by Oblivion.” 

“And Oblivion is surrounded by Aetherius.”  Lydia added. 

“Oblivion is another realm of existence, and it’s where the Daedric Princes live.”  Saadia explained, “We can’t see Oblivion, it’s the black spaces between the stars.”  She said, “And the stars are actually holes that were punched through Oblivion when Nirn was made.” 

“Wow…”  Lucia said softly.

“Aetherius is the home of the Aedra.  It’s where all creation and magic comes from.”  Lydia said, “Good magic.”  She clarified.  “Likes Shouts.”  She gave Saadia a grin.  “Sovngarde and the Far Shores are in Aetherius.” 

“Mundus was created by the Aedra.”  Saadia said, trying to remember all the names of the Gods she’d read about.

“Lorkhan had the idea and he tried to convince the other et'Ada to make Mundus.  The et'Ada are the original spirits.  They only became Aedra and Daedra after Mundus was made.”  Lydia went on. 

“Magnus was the architect?”  Saadia said and Lydia nodded, “Lots of the original spirits refused to help in the making of Mundus, but some agreed to help.”  She was on firmer footing now; she knew this part of the creation story well, “Some of the original spirits gave part of themselves to the creation and they became the 8 planets you can see at night time.  We call them the 8 divines now.”

“Akatosh, Stendarr, Mara, Dibella, Zenithar, Kynareth, Julianos and Arkay.”  Lucia recited the God’s names. 

“And Talos was a man who was raised up to be a God.”  Lydia said, “But we are no longer permitted to worship him.”  She added softly.

“Why not?”  Lucia asked.

“That’s a long story for another time.”  Saadia said, “Back to the creation of Mundus.”

“How many planets are there in Mundus?”  Lydia asked.

“8.”  Lucia replied.

“9 - you forgot Nirn.  Our planet.”

“Oh right!”  Lucia laughed at herself. 

“Some of the old spirits gave themselves completely to the creation Mundus and became the Earthbones – the very life of our planet.”  Saadia continued, “Once it was made, Magnus decided he didn’t really like Mundus and left, his passage ripped the hole in Oblivion that lets in the sun, and that’s where most of our magical energy comes from.” 

“Others left too, leaving smaller holes; the stars.”  Lydia added. 

“Some chose to stay, or became trapped here.  Some of these became Earthbones and some wasted away to nothing.” 

“So that’s how everything was made.”  Lucia said and Lydia and Saadia nodded. 

“All life on Nirn came from the Aedra.  In a sense, we are descendants of Gods.”  Saadia said.  “The Mer believe that Lorkhan tricked the Aedra into making Nirn; draining them of their power.  They believe that they themselves are Gods made mortal by this trickery.  But Humans believe they came from Lorkhan, the only God to ever truly disappear… to perhaps have died.  So they see him as their creator, their saviour.  Either way, creating Nirn drained the Aedra, and so some of them left, but others stayed to finish the job; and those are the ones we worship now.” 

“They were considerably weakened, and that’s why we can see them as the planets; where they are now confined.”  Lydia said. 

“Some say they will never regain their full strength, and others say they already have, but choose to stay on their planets; their planes.”  Saadia said, “We can never know what the Aedra are up to though.” 

“Lorkhan is called ‘the missing God’ and it is believed that Masser and Secunda, our moons, are his broken body; he gave his life to the creation of Nirn.”  Lydia said. 

“Some of the Aedra, angered that creating Nirn had drained them of power tore his heart out and threw it down to Nirn.”  Saadia said.  “He is a God that died so that we might all live.” 

Lucia stared blankly at them both for a moment.

“It’s a lot to take in.”  Saadia said.  “And there’s a lot of contradictory versions of the same tale.”

“And some people don’t believe that version of events at all.”  Lydia added.

“Beliefs and religion are a tricky thing.”  Saadia said.

“So how was Mundus created?”  Lucia said, “If there’s different beliefs?”

“We all agree that the Gods did it.”  Lydia answered. 

“Alright.”  Lucia said slowly and looked back down at her book, “learning the races of Tamriel is a lot easier than that.”

“No arguments from me.”  Saadia agreed.

 

***

 

That evening Saadia went up to Jorrvaskr.  It was quiet; almost everyone was out on jobs, even Kodlak was off on some journey to some wise person somewhere.  Vilkas was quite excited by that.

“He’s found a lead on a cure for us.”  He said as he handed her a tankard of ale.

“I don’t need this.”  She handed it back to him; she intended to go and have some fun with Farkas as soon as she had the latest news.  Vilkas looked towards the stairs that led down to the sleeping quarters and pulled a face. 

“Tell me,” He said delicately, “You and my brother… you’re not… um…”  He paused and sighed; he was clearly reluctant to have this conversation.

“Not what?”

“Are you serious about each other?”  He asked simply.

“I’m not entirely sure what you mean by that, but I’m almost entirely sure it’s not your business.”  She saw him suck his teeth for a moment.  She knew that look; it meant he knew something she didn’t and was wondering what to do with that information.  She saw him decide to put it aside. 

“Fair enough.”  He answered.

“So how’s it going with the Silver-Hand?”  She asked.

“We’ve hit three of their camps and got 2 shards of Wuuthrad.  But they know we know where they are now, so they’re scrambling to get to new locations.  Aela is agitating to take another one prisoner and make them talk.  Kodlak says no.  At least not yet.  He seems to think this has gone far enough.”

“They’ll keep coming after the Circle until we convince them not to.”  Saadia answered, “I don’t think it’s done yet.” 

“I believe you are right.”  Vilkas answered. 

“I’m always right.”  She answered and he scoffed.  She chose to ignore that.  “Alright, I am off to visit Farkas.”  She said with a cheeky grin, “don’t read too many books up here, alright?”

“Listen…”  He said suddenly, but he paused and it was clear he didn’t really have anything to say.  She saw again that he knew something she didn’t… saw that internal struggle as he put it away, deciding it wasn’t his business, but still not being able to stop himself; “Do you want to just sit up here for a bit.  Do you really need to go down and-”

“Do I really need to go down and have mind-blowing sex with your brother?”  Saadia asked, “Is that what you want to ask me?”

“Not really.”  He answered. 

“Right… well if you have nothing else to say, I’m going to go and get my kunte hammered.” 

“Stunning imagery, thank you for that.”  Vilkas sighed and looked away.

“My pleasure.”  Saadia said and headed downstairs mumbling, “Literally.”  To herself. 

When she got to Farkas’s room she opened the door to see a very curvaceous young blond, one large round breast hanging out of her corseted dress, the other still pressed inside of it, bent over, kneeling on the bed, her lips on Farkas’s cock, her fingers still in the laces, his eyes on her. 

And Vilkas’s behaviour upstairs now made sense.  The loyalty to his brother versus his loyalty to his Shield-sister.  He hadn’t wanted her to walk in on this. 

“Oh…”  She said softly and Farkas looked up at her, a huge smile suddenly coming to his lips.  But the woman jumped up and backed away.

“Oh, by the Gods…”  She whispered in horror, her hands trying to get her scant top to cover her enormous breast.  She was huge in the breasts and hips, tiny in the waist.  “It’s true…”  She looked from Farkas to Saadia, “I am so sorry Milady, I had heard that the Dragonborn was betrothed to Farkas of the Companions, but when I asked him if he was taken, he said that wasn’t a problem…”

“It’s not.”  Saadia reassured her, “We’re not together like that.”

“You’re not?”  She looked unconvinced.

“Nah.”  Farkas said nonchalantly.

“No.”  Saadia said soothingly at the same time. 

“It’s just the travelling Bards… they said, you two were to married.”

“Married?’  Saadia said amused.

“I don’t think either of us is the marrying type.”  Farkas answered. 

“They say you is a beautiful woman of incredible strength and prowess… if I might say, they don’t do you justice Milady.”

“I’m not a lady.”  Saadia said, “And… since when does a warrior’s looks matter?  Aren’t their deeds supposed to be most important.” 

“All the songs say you two is in love, and that Farkas, the strongest man in all of Skyrim, is the only man able to conquer ye.”  Farkas laughed heartily and she looked confused while Saadia shook her head.  “It’s true, they say he’s the only one strong enough for ye.” 

“Alright, well, we’re not betrothed, no marriage, no conquering, although he is really strong; they got that right.  And I am a fierce warrior of unparalleled prowess also.”  She said with a slight laugh.  “And this really is fine… I’m just not used to Farkas not being available when I want some attention; it’s only happened once before.”  She gave him a wink, “But I can wait.  I’ll lea-”

“When did it happen before?”  Farkas asked.

“You were away on a job.”  She answered and then with a devilish grin and a teasing tone, “Vilkas took care of me.”

“What?”  Farkas asked, sitting up.  Saadia leaned against the doorframe, thoroughly amused by the look Farkas was giving her. 

“I said Vilkas took care of me.”

“As in my brother?”  He asked in disbelief. 

“Look at this; we’re not together, but you’re still perturbed by the idea of your brother taking care of me.”  She noted.

“No…” He said uncomfortably, “It’s just… I didn’t think he was interested in you in that way.”  He said.

“The feeling is mutual, don’t worry dear.”  Saadia teased.

“You fought.”  Farkas understood and Saadia nodded.

“Beat Oblivion out of each other!”  She laughed.  “I would have much preferred sex, but you take what you can get.”  She waved them off, “I’ll leave you 2 too it then.”

“Well you don’t have to leave.”  Farkas said with a cheeky grin.  He looked her up and down, a suggestive look on his face and then looked at the other woman.

“You want me to leave?”  She asked sadly. 

“I don’t see why we can’t all just… Stay.”  He said suggestively. 

Saadia chuckled and turned to look at the other woman.

“He’s a cheeky bastard isn’t he?”  She asked with a huge grin, only to see the other woman looking at her with big round eyes.

“I’d love to do that…”  She whispered.  Saadia watched as the younger woman looked her up and down; she looked like she might faint from excitement. 

“Is that right?”  Saadia asked, considering it.  She looked back at Farkas. 

“This is Gerti.”  Farkas said slyly, “She’s 24, she’s from the outlying farms, new to Whiterun from Falkreath.” 

“Hi.”  She said breathlessly to Saadia. 

“Get back to it then.”  She said to Gerti and the woman nodded emphatically, practically jumping onto the bed, her hands returning to Farkas’s lacing. 

Saadia closed the door and began taking her armour off; Farkas’s eyes never leaving her as Gerti sucked on his cock. 

As soon as she was naked, Farkas motioned for her to come to him, and Saadia did, deciding it was best to let Farkas lead in this instance.  She’d never had a threesome before, and she had a feeling Farkas had had many. 

She lay on the bed beside him and he pulled her to him, kissing her quite passionately, Gerti looking up at them her tongue swirling around the head of Farkas’s cock.  Farkas’s big hand travelled down Saadia’s body to cup her full arse before sliding his fingers into her arse and kunte, groaning in anticipation and pleasure as they kissed. 

“Get your kunte on my mouth.”  He practically growled at her and she bit her bottom lip, enjoying this more dominant Farkas a little too much.  Normally he pretty much did whatever he was told, but he could sense Saadia’s inexperience, and was willing to take the lead when necessary. 

Saadia knelt, with her knees on either side of his head and lowered her kunte to his mouth, his hands wrapping around her thighs as he licked eagerly at her clit.  She groaned and ran her hands up her body, watching Gerti expertly lick his cock.  She found it to be far more erotic than she’d imagined possible.  Saadia found her mouth practically watering, wanting to taste Farkas like Gerti was, she leaned down, and Gerti held his cock for her while she licked the head of his cock, Gerti sucking on his balls now.

Farkas groaned loudly with deep appreciation for the pleasure they were giving him, never once stopping his eager feasting on her kunte.

Saadia enjoyed this; sucking his cock fervently while he lapped at her kunte passionately, his finger finding their way inside of her again, a beautiful blond woman licking and sucking his balls, her fingers gently easing into his anus.  Farkas groaned again and Gerti started to lick up the shaft of his cock, the two women kissing around the head, before she went back down to his balls. 

“Come here.”  Saadia said to Gerti, motioning for Gerti to ride Farkas.  The buxom blonde woman, happily obliged, crawling up his body to sit on him, sliding his cock in her kunte, her hands going to Saadia’s breasts.  Saadia put her hands over Gerti’s hands showing her what she liked, before putting a hand on Gerti’s cheek, feeling the softness of her skin motioning for her to come closer.

Gerti’s lips were soft and sweet, and she kissed tenderly, almost timidly.  But when Saadia pulled away to throw her head back in pleasure, Gerti grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her in for a deep passionate kiss. 

Saadia rubbed her kunte back and forth on Farkas’s face, Gerti rode his cock like it was a bucking stallion, but the two women focussed on exploring each other’s bodies, their hands slowly moving up and down each other’s curves, their mouths tasting each other’s skin. 

This was exquisite fun.  Saadia didn’t know why people didn’t do this all the time.  The feel of Farkas’s fingers gripping her thighs, his mouth on her kunte, Gerti’s hands on her breasts, her hips, her sides, Gerti’s mouth on her nipples, on her neck, on her mouth… It was bliss. 

Saadia came loudly, her body shaking with pleasure, Gerti biting one of her nipples as Farkas dug his fingers into her thighs to lift himself up and keep licking her kunte as she moaned and groaned, her thighs slowly squeezing together.

She was panting when she looked down at Farkas, the glow of orgasm in her face.

“I love how much you love doing that.”  She said and he winked at her.

“Any time you want it, I’m more than willing.”  He licked her juices from his lips, “Swap.”  He said and she nodded. 

“I’ve never had a Dibellan kiss…”  Gerti said softly as she got up and off the bed.  Farkas raised his head from between Saadia’s thighs to look at her. 

“Given but not gotten?”  He asked and she nodded.

“I’ve only been with men before, and none of them wanted to do it.”  She told them.

“I hate men like that.”  Saadia said as she got up, walking down the bed, Farkas’s eyes on her arse.  “I’ve been with plenty of them.  They’re not worth your time.” 

“You deserve better lovers than that.”  Farkas agreed, motioning for her to come to him.

“You really don’t mind?”  She asked as she got up.

“No girl, I love it.”  He said, “Now get that kunte on my mouth.”  His tone was strong, almost forceful, so confident.  Saadia felt a tingle of excitement in her kunte; she really did like slightly dominant Farkas. 

Saadia lowered her kunte onto Farkas’s cock, sliding in his full length then tightening her muscles as she lifted herself off him slightly.

He groaned in deep appreciation; a long deep rumbling moan, his hands going to her hips, his eyes filled with lustful bliss. 

“Wow…”  Gerti said watching Saadia roll her hips sinfully, raising her hands above her head, Farkas’s hands running up her sides to her breasts.  “I have to learn what you’re doing.”

“She’s got kunte muscles that could crack a Dragon’s skull.”  Farkas said, his voice deep and breathy with pleasure, another groan rumbling through his chest. 

“Come on girl,” He motioned to Gerti and she nodded, getting back up on the bed.  “Now listen woman,” He said to Saadia, “Don’t you make me cum too soon.”

“No promises.”  She teased and he chuckled, lowering his head back to the bed. 

Saadia watched as Gerti, trying not to giggle, carefully kneeled over Farkas’s face, being very careful of his hair.  She bit her bottom lip as Farkas put his hands on her thigh and took a deep breath in, giving an approving and lusty grunt before beginning to lick her kunte lips, teasing her.

Gerti gasped with surprise, and then pleasure, her eyes rolling back in her head.

“By the Gods.”  Her voice was throaty and lust-filled, “Dibella knew what she was on about…” 

“Hm hmm.”  Saadia nodded in agreement.  She ran her hands up Gerti’s body, while the younger woman gripped Farkas’s chest, barely able to hold herself up, groaning loudly.  Saadia remembered her first Dibellan kiss, and was excited to be here for someone else’s first time.  She kissed Gerti’s neck and was met with a loud groan of bliss.  She gently pulled on one of her nipples, licking the sweat off Gerti’s neck, biting her ear lobe gently.  Saadia made it her job to heighten Gerti’s pleasure as much as she could; wanting her first orgasm from a Dibellan Kiss to be memorable. 

But soon Saadia found herself in complete awe, trying not to laugh as Gerti made high pitched squeals, her body shaking in pleasure, her fingernails digging bloody holes in Farkas’s chest. 

“By the Gods.”  She gasped and rolled onto her side, her thigh on Farkas’s face; but he was chuckling as he gently moved her leg and looked over at her, practically a melted pile of blissful goo, lying on the bed beside him. 

Saadia chuckled delightedly and ran her hands up Farkas’s chest and squeezed his cock with her muscles.

“Is it your turn?”

“Not yet.”  He said, pulling her down to kiss him, her hips grinding into him rhythmically, Gerti still trying to get it together after her orgasm. 

He stroked her face, staring into her eyes, his other hand going to her hip; the intensity of his desire for her was always intoxicating for Saadia – it made her innards feel warm and calm, but made her skin shiver with delight. 

“I hope I have that one day.”  Gerti whispered, in awe of their intimacy and connection.  They both turned to look at her, grinning.

“You back?”  Farkas asked and Gerti giggled blushing. 

“That was amazing, thank you.”  She said, totally smitten with him. 

“You don’t have to thank me for making sure you enjoy this; that’s the minimum you should expect from your lovers.”  Farkas answered. 

“Thank you anyway.”  She said, noticing the way Saadia had slowed down her thrusting.  “Keep going.”  She said and watched as Saadia returned to her previous tempo.  She crawled down the bed and settle in between Farkas’s legs, licking and sucking his balls while Saadia rode him expertly. 

Farkas groaned, and kept his eyes on Saadia’s face, his hands on her body, as he started to thrust up from under her. 

“I need to do some fucking.”  He said rolling Saadia over, carefully lifting his leg over Gerti’s face.  He slammed Saadia’s back into the bed and thrust into her hard and deep and fast, holding her body close to his.  After a few minutes of this, bringing Saadia to the brink of orgasm he stopped and raised his upper body up, putting her left ankle on his shoulder.  Gerti saw her opening and crawled up the bed, kissing Saadia’s lips and then slowly kissing down her body while Farkas thrust into her hard.  Gerti enthusiastically began to lick Saadia’s clit, Farkas stroking her hair back so he could see what she was doing, a lusty grin on his face.  Saadia rolled her head back and gripped the blankets, her eyes closed; her favourite sexual activity was being clitorally stimulated while being fucked.  And Farkas was fucking her so hard and deep she could practically taste his cock.  Gerti was rougher than she was used to on her clit, but somehow it was good, and Saadia felt a new type of letting go; like wave of water flooding through her body as waves of orgasm shook her. 

“OH!”  Gerti said as Saadia squirted, and the she laughed.

“Yeah!”  Farkas said triumphantly. 

“By the Gods!”  Saadia groaned, “KEEP GOING!”  Gerti kept licking Saadia, even as she squirted through a second powerful orgasm, Farkas thrusting faster, sweat dripping down his back.

Saadia arched her back, hardly able to breathe, the pleasure was so intense, and a third, even higher peaking orgasm shook her to the bones; her whole body felt a bliss she’d never known.

“Ok…”  She gasped, her hand going to her kunte, covering it, trying to slow Farkas; she was so sensitive.  Farkas slowed down to a near stop.  “Why am I so wet?”  Saadia asked and Farkas gave her a smutty grin.

“Women can ejaculate too.”  He said, “it don’t happen that often.  But when it does…” He cocked an eyebrow at her and she sighed contently.

“We’ll have to do this again.”  She agreed to the future conversation they’d eventually have about this.  He chuckled, completely delighted by her in every way.  He withdrew form Saadia and motioned to Gerti to get on all fours, “Come on girl.”  He said lustfully.

“Bring your kunte here.”  Saadia said, taking a leaf out of Farkas’s book, as Farkas got off the bed and watched them for a moment. 

Gerti giggled again as she knelt over Saadia face, this time on all fours, her mouth kissing Saadia’s thighs and lower abdomen, waiting for Saadia to be less sensitive before licking her clit again.  Farkas got back on the bed and slid into Gerti’s kunte as Saadia licked her clit enthusiastically, going harder than she had in the past; trying to give Gerti the pleasure of ejaculating.  Saadia enjoyed the outrageous curve from Gerti’s big round arse, her wide hips, her narrow waist.  She tickled her fingers up the younger woman’s sides, making her giggle and squirm delightedly.

Gerti came loudly, but she didn’t squirt, and Saadia made a mental note to try to get future lovers to squirt.  For now Saadia was focussed on the two people in the room with her. 

“Swap.”  Farkas said again, and the woman took their time swapping, taking time to kiss each other’s bodies, kneeling together on the bed Farkas watching them, while they completely ignored him, enjoying each other.  But they were happy to let Farkas lead, and eventually they settled into Saadia on top, her face already buried in Gerti’s wet and sensitive kunte.  Farkas thrust into Saadia quite firmly, and Gerti licked up and down, from Farkas’s balls to Saadia’s clit.

“It’s your turn Farkas.”  Saadia said, “Cum deep inside of me.”  She loved the way he groaned when she said things like that to him; she knew he loved to hear things like that, “I want you to fill me completely.”  Another groan, “Fuck me hard... please…”  She felt his fingers grip her hips and he thrust harder, Gerti sucking on her clit sending jolts of pleasure through her body.  She focussed on fingering Gerti, talking dirty to Farkas, her own pleasure mounting again. 

Farkas started to groan throatily, she could feel his cock pulsating inside of her, his thrusts pushing deeper, pushing her over the edge, just as Gerti’s high pitched moans begun, signalling that she too was coming. 

They collapsed in a heap, laughing lazily, slowly getting comfortable in Farkas’s double bed.  Farkas spooned Saadia, and Gerti face her, the woman holding each other, all of them dozing contentedly.  Farkas ran his fingers lazily up and down Saadia’s side, dozing on and off, while Gerti stroked her hair, and Saadia ran her fingers along Gerti’s soft jawline. 

After 20 minutes of snoozing together the women started to kiss slowly, tenderly.  And Farkas’s hand travelled up Saadia’s stomach to her breasts, his cock growing hard again. 

He slid into her without changing position, making a slow, lazy kind of love, Saadia leaning back to kiss him, Gerti leaning forward to kiss him as soon as they stopped, then the 2 women kissing again, hands all over each other, slow, lingering… the kind of sex that lasts all night. 

 

***

 

Saadia opened Farkas’s door, intending to get some food for her and Farkas, and saw Vilkas in his room, shirtless, as always when down here, shaving, looking intently into his looking glass, the straight razor to his cheek.  He looked up at her as Gerti came out of the room, she kissed Saadia on the cheek.

“I had a great night.”  She said and giggled.

“See you around.”  Saadia said and Gerti nodded.  When she looked up and saw Vilkas she blushed, looked back at Saadia and turned away, leaving quickly.  She was running late for work. 

Vilkas turned back to the looking glass as Saadia came and leaned in his door.

“Hey thanks for trying to warn me last night.”  She said and he said nothing, “It wasn’t necessary though.”

“That much is apparent.”  He answered stiffly. 

“You don’t approve?”  She asked, crossing her arms, unimpressed with him. 

“I should think that my approval or disapproval wouldn’t matter to you.” He said in an odd tone, “But since you ask; I don’t disapprove.” 

“Have you never had a threesome before, then?”  Saadia asked, trying to figure out why he was in such a mood. 

“Of course I have.”  He answered dismissively, “I might not be as successful as Farkas, in that regard, but I am still a Wolf brother.”

“A Wolf brother…”  She mused. 

“I just mean that I am aware of the effect this face and this body have on people.”  He answered turning to her, “But I am also aware that I lack the charm Farkas has.”

“Perhaps you do lack his charm,” Saadia agreed, “but you have other things…”  She saw him roll his eyes before he turned back to his shaving, “You’re not like anyone I’ve met.”  She continued; keen to prove his assessment of himself wrong, “You have an intensity and focus that inspires me.”  She conceded and he looked back at her, an unreadable expression on his face, “and you’re kind, people don’t give enough credit to kindness.”  She added, not noticing the way his head tipped slightly to the side as he tried to figure out why she was saying this to him.  “And you’re humble; you never want people to know all the good things you do for them.”  She noticed him lower his eyes there; her even noticing this about him was uncomfortable for him; she had to admire how committed he was to being anonymously generous and kind.  “You’re uncommonly thoughtful and… well, I’ve known you all these months and you’re the only person that still surprises me regularly; very regularly.”  She admitted, “I can’t figure you out – so I’ve just come to expect the unexpected form you.”

“Perhaps you just bring the best out in me.”  He said softly, his eyes on her face.

“I like that thought.”  She said, but he looked away instantly, clearing his throat.  “You missed a bit.”  She saw an un-shaved part, “At the back of your jawline, under your ear.”

“Yeah it’s a tricky spot.”  He said as she came into his room.

“Here,” She said taking the razor from his hand, “Let me.”  As soon as she put her fingers on his chin to move his face to where she wanted it, she noticed an almost imperceptible tensing of his whole body.  She figured most people wouldn’t have noticed it; but she had been trained to notice small details in people – it often meant the difference between life and death in battle.  “It must be hard to trust someone with a knife to your throat.”  She said softly as she shaved the spot he’d missed.

“Yes.”  He answered, his eyes watching her in the looking glass.  But she saw his eyes on her face momentarily before they turned to her hands.  She wondered if he trusted her at all. 

“I might as well finish you off.”  Saadia said, taken with the idea that this small act might make him trust her more, and that their friendship might grow stronger.   

“It’s not necessary.”  He said and she saw his fingers twitch slightly. 

“I don’t mind, besides what are Shield-sisters for?”  She said with a grin, beginning on the other side of his face, concentrating very hard on the task at hand.

“Facing battles together.”  He answered softly, his eyes watching her closely. 

“Ah yes!”  She agreed with humour, “the battle of ridding yourself of unwanted facial hair!” 

She noticed how slow and deep his breaths were, his fingers twitching again, she could feel his eyes on her, knew he was watching her very closely.  If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was preparing for a battle; focusing his mind, preparing himself, eyeing the enemy closely, sizing them up, fingers ready to hold his weapon…

But she was determined that Vilkas and she should trust each other.  Everyone else in the Circle seemed to trust her, but still Vilkas was reserved.  Their friendship had improved there was no doubt, but she could feel the wall he’d put up between them.  It bothered her. 

She could feel the tension in the room; the tension in his body as she worked, the silence between them both deafening and yet comfortable in a strange sort of way.  She wondered if she’d ever understand him or the strange friendship they shared. 

“There.”  She said as she finished, “How did I do?”  She asked and he leaned forward in his chair to look at the looking glass closely. 

“You did a fine job.”  He said softly, his hand going to his cheek, “Closer than I do it.”  He noted. 

“Sorry…”  She said but he held up a hand.

“You should know, for future reference, that in Skyrim it is very uncommon for a woman to shave a man she’s not married to.”  He said gently, but with a slightly stiff undertone. 

“Oh…”  She said, understanding the tension in the room now; why had she been so insistent?  She mentally kicked herself.

“So,” He continued, “perhaps be careful who you shave in future; you might give him the wrong idea.”  He advised.

“I’m sorry Vilkas, I didn’t mean… to upset or offend you…”

“I’m not that much of a traditionalist.”  He said wryly, “It’s just something for you to be aware of.”  He said without looking at her. 

“I have upset you…”  She said noticing how he didn’t look at her, “I hate this, every time I think we’re finally settling into a kind of peace… something happens to put a wall up between us again.”

“Perhaps that’s the way we’re meant to be; at odds.”  He answered in a low voice.

“I hope not.”  Saadia said honestly and he turned to look at her, a moment of silence passing between them.

“As do I.”  She sensed that this was an honest answer from him too.  Another moment of silence passed between them, as they looked at each other, not sure what to do with this information.  He cleared his throat again.  “Anyway, I have-”

“A job.”  Saadia knew.

“A job.”  He repeated, “Yes.”

“And I have to get food, so…”

“Yes.”

“I’ll let you get back to… your job.”  She started to turn to leave.

“And I’ll leave you to get food.”  He said and then softly, “Dovahkiin…”  She turned back to him, “Thank you.”  She hadn’t expected him to thank her, and there was yet another moment of silence before she replied. 

“Not a problem.”  She answered and left to go upstairs and get some plates of food. 

She grabbed two plates and started piling them high with food, the whelps all about talking and feasting.  Saadia reflected on how Jorrvaskr was financially supported; it took half of the money every job made, the other half going to the Companion who did the job.  The money that went to Jorrvaskr provided food, weapons, water, servants… it was also being used to dig out new rooms for the newest members who wanted to live here.  It was a good system. 

She took the food back down to Farkas’s room and put it on the bedside table, sitting on his bed cross legged while he sprawled out across the bed on his stomach, completely naked, still asleep.  She patted his arse and he made a grunting sound.  
“Food.”  She said and he rolled onto his back

“Thanks.”  He said sleepily.  He sat up and pulled on a long tunic; he had to go out to pee.

When he returned, he had a bottle of water he’d filled up from the well.  He sat with his back against the headboard of the bed, his legs stretched out and grabbed the plate of food.  They ate in comfortable silence for a while.

“After food, do you want to go down to the river and bathe?”

“Yes.”  Saadia agreed readily.

“We can have some alone time too.”  He said with a cheeky grin that she returned.

“Your libido almost matches mine.”  She teased.

“I got a long way to go before I match you.”  He went along with the tease. 

“She was a lot of fun.”  Saadia said and he nodded.

“Next time I’ll bring you home a lad.”  He said with a cocked eyebrow. 

“Just no younger than Gerti, right?”

“I prefer them to have some experience.”  He agreed, “So I don’t usually go that young.” 

“I mean 24 isn’t too bad…”  She said, “But she was just… well her body was very pert… and perfect.”  She laughed, her lifelong insecurities rising up inside of her, the words her father had said to her returning.  But Farkas shook his head.

“She’s had work done.”  He said knowingly.

“Work?”

“The face sculptor in Riften can do anything.”  He explained, but Saadia had heard of this face sculptor before; Camilla wanted to see them.  “No one looks like that.”  Farkas went on, “No one has breasts that big that don’t drop when a corset comes off!”  He chuckled.

“Well she’s still young…”

“Nah, I’ve seen enough naked bodies to know.”  He answered, “I don’t mind what people do to their bodies, you know?”  He said, “It’s their body, they can do whatever they want to it.  And she was beautiful, don’t get me wrong… but I do prefer natural bodies because they tell a story.”  His eyes took her in; she liked it when it was obvious he was enjoying what he saw when he looked at her.  “Like your scars tell the story of your battles,” He explained, “and the fullness of your stomach tells me you aren’t afraid to eat properly and your body knows how to store that food well.  And the slight drop of your breasts tells me your age, the muscles in your shoulders tell me you swing a big weapon, the small wrinkles around your eyes tell me laugh often.”  Saadia had never seen her body like this; she liked the way Farkas saw the world, “I like bodies that tell stories.  The only story Gerti’s body tells me is that she hated her body and she wanted it to look like something else; something that doesn’t exist in nature.  Which is fine, you can do whatever you want with your body… but there’s a lot more to a person than their body, and she doesn’t seem to think so.”  He put his plate aside, “Which is a shame, she’s a nice girl.” 

“Yeah.”  Saadia agreed.  “But I thought her body was the kind of body men dreamed of.”  She thought of all the horrors her father put the beauties through to make them look more like Gerti so that they could be married off – sold to the highest bidder. 

“Some prefer their women to be empty books that they can write their own story on.”  He answered, “Not me.”  He said firmly, “I like a woman with a body who tells me who she is.  I like women who are who they are, regardless of what anyone else says.  I like a woman I can read.”

“I thought your brother was the book reader.”  Saadia tried to joke.

“I read… a different type of book.”  He said with a slight shrug, “And I’m not that good at it.”  He confided; “People are much harder to read than ordinary books; always different, always changing.  I love it.”  He reached out and took her hand, “I particularly like that about you.” 

“Careful, people will think we’re getting married.”  She joked and he laughed.  “Betrothed…”  She shook her head, laughing. 

“Ah maybe one day, but definitely not today.”  He said and she paused, looking at him silently. 

“I thought you didn’t want to get married?”  She asked softly.

“I don’t.”  He said with a shrug, “But who knows what tomorrow brings, right?” 

“I’m fairly certain it won’t be marriage.”

“Probably not.”  He agreed, “The whole idea of ‘forever’ is not something I like.”

“Exactly.”  Saadia agreed. 

 

***

 

Saadia knew she was avoiding going back into battle. 

She hung around Whiterun and Riverwood and Lakeview Manor and did errands for Farengar; mostly taking his bags to people he’d sold them to…

She had nearly died at the hands of Kvenel, and with Rayya on the mend, but set to stay at Lakeview Manor as the head of security there, it meant she’d have to take on the next group of baddies alone. 

But Farengar did have rather a lot of his magical bags to be delivered… so she focussed on that.

She was doing a night time guard of Jorrvaskr; something she rarely did because she didn’t live ther, when Vilkas came up to the main hall to get some wine.

“What are you avoiding Dragonborn?”  He asked as he poured himself a cup.

“Don’t you have some charming Nord maiden in your room to entertain?”  She asked and he shrugged and sat down in front of the fire with her.

“She’s asleep.”

“Wore her out?”  Saadia asked with a cheeky grin.  He looked away, shrugging again. 

“What are you avoiding?”  He asked after a moment of silence. 

“I don’t know what you mean.”  She said, looking at the fire crackling merrily. 

“You’ve been hanging around town for weeks.  I know you love your family and this city… but you love a good fight Dovahkiin… so why aren’t you fighting?”  He asked astutely.

Saadia sucked her teeth and stared moodily at the fire; she hadn’t told anyone what had happened yet.  Rayya was the only one who knew how close she’d come.  Vilkas studied her face and watched her cross her arms over her stomach, as if protecting herself.  It was a subconscious act, and something she’d been doing more lately, he noticed. 

“After a while, you become so good at fighting, you feel almost invisible.”  He said softly, “2 summers ago, I went feral hunting alone.  Not a wise decision, but I thought I could handle it.  I came across a pack of feral werewolves.  7 of them.  I should have run.”  Vilkas shook his head, “Instead I turned; ready for the fight.”

She looked up at him, he stared silently at the fire.

“What happened?”

“What do think happened?  I’m still here.”  He said and then chuckled softly.  “They nearly killed me.”  He said honestly.  “It took me a while to go feral hunting again.  I couldn’t understand why it had affected me so badly… I nearly got killed all the time when I was younger.”  Saadia laughed softly and he gave her a comfortable grin, “I think it’s because when you’ve been doing this a while, you get to feel like you’re invisible.  And it’s hard to be reminded you’re not.” 

“How do you know me so well?”  She asked in a soft voice.

“I know that look in your eyes.”  He answered, looking back at the fire.  “I’ve seen it on so many warriors.  I’ve seen it in my own eyes looking back at me from the looking glass.”

“We were in these Nord ruins… it’s always Nord ruins…”  She whispered, “And there was this Tongue, Kvenel – a ghost of him…”  She shook her head, “He shattered my bones… he had my intestines out Vilkas.”  He turned his eyes to her, clearly concerned.  “If it weren’t for Kynareth’s Kiss, I’d be dead.  He was better than me – so much better than me.  Stronger and faster, and he Shouted so powerfully… and he wasn’t Dragonborn, he just learned those Shouts like the Greybeards do…”  She looked away, “He killed me.  Kynareth had to intercede herself.”

“What?”  Vilkas sounded surprised.

“I was dying Vilkas.”  She looked back at him, “And she came to me when I was in the Void... at least I think it was the Void… Alduin was closing in… and she kissed my forehead… she healed me with her own hands.  That’s the only reason I’m here.” 

She saw him take a deep breath, a look of awe on his face, she could practically hear him thinking ‘blessed by the Gods…’

But he nodded grimly.

“It doesn’t matter why you’re here.  What matters is that you are, and Kvenel is not.”  He said firmly.  Saadia felt a strange clarity creeping through her flesh.  Yes, he’d been better than her; but she’d beaten him, and she’d survived.  It didn’t matter if her victory came with help from the Gods; Kvenel had had a room full of draugr helping him, and a Daedra!  But she had beaten him.  She took a deep breath, letting her mind travel back to that fight; she’d been avoiding thinking about it.  “As warriors, we have to admit that many things give us victories; our skill, luck, help from friends… and sometimes it seems like the Gods themselves favour us.”  Vilkas said, “A good warrior makes use of everything they have to ensure victory.”  He leaned forward and looked her in the eye, “You have Kynareth’s favour; use it to your advantage Dovahkiin.” 

“You’re right.”  She said breathed.

“I’m always right.”  He answered. 

“Except for when I am.”  She countered and he laughed softly. 

“Even then I’m usually right.”  He said with a cheeky grin.

“Stubborn Nord.”  She shook her head. 

“Look who’s talking; you’re only half Nord and you still manage to be almost as stubborn as I am.”  He teased. 

“Oh Redguard women are the most stubborn.”  She countered and he laughed. 

“Then I haven’t known enough Redguard women.”  His answer came quickly. 

“Well you know me.”

“Not nearly well enough.”  He said, their eyes meeting momentarily before he looked away, taking a sip of his wine.

“You like to have everyone figured out, don’t you?”  She asked, “I know, because I do too.”

“Perhaps we have more in common than we thought.”  He said with a shrug. 

“You should probably go and wake up that poor Nord girl,” Saadia said with a cheeky grin, “If you’re anything like your brother, you’re not even close to satisfied yet.”

“Well, my brother and I are very alike.”  He said and got up, “Go easy on yourself Shield-sister; make your first battle after this, one you know you can win.  It’ll make it easier to get back into the spirit of battle.”

“Thanks Vilkas.”  She said and he gave her a nod, leaving with 2 bottles of wine and an apple. 

When Njada relieved her an hour later, she went down to sleep in Farkas’s bed; he was on a job, but he’d be home soon, and she wanted some action. 

As she put her hand on the doorknob to Farkas’s room she heard a loud groan of orgasm coming from Vilkas’s room; the Nord girl was enjoying herself it seemed. 

Saadia laughed at herself when she wondered what he’d do if she opened the door right now.  She could imagine his embarrassment. 

She went into Farkas’s room, into the familiar surroundings and comfortable smell of him, and got into his bed.  She was asleep in minutes, sleeping sounder than she had since her battle with Kvenel. 

 

***

 

Saadia decided to go and check out the town of Dragon Bridge as her first outing after Kvenel; she’d ran past it when she’d had that dog Barbas leading her around. 

If she knew anything about the people of Skyrim, there’d be loads of people there with small meaningless tasks for her to do, and one of these tasks would inevitably lead to a fight with a small group of bandits or something similar. 

That sounded like the perfect first fight after near death.

She set off early in the morning, running hard and fast glad to have the blood pumping in her veins again. 

She came across a handsome Nord man on the road as she ran.

“Ah smell the fresh air!”  He said in a loud booming voice as she passed him.  She stopped and turned, smiling at him.

“It’s wonderful.”  She agreed.

“Truly, this is a good place to play a song.”  He said.

“Are you a bard?” 

“I am!  Standing before you is Talsgar the Wanderer, dear traveller.  One itinerant and wandering wastrel at your service Ma’am.” 

“What are you doing out here?”  She asked, utterly thrilled to meet a travelling bard, but then something Gerti had said came back to her.

“Why to perform for common people, of course!”  He exclaimed, “Why should only the courts and inns of wealthy towns be given the gift of music?”

“You must hear a lot of tales out on the road.  Must give you a lot of inspiration.”  She said.

“The best tales are those of adventure.  Who could truly write such a tale without first experiencing such?”  He agreed.

“I’m sure you’ve created some stories solely from imagination?”  She asked him.

“Never!”  He said, “My tales are all from experience or from legend.”

“Or gossip?”  she prodded. 

“What do you mean, my fine lady?”  He asked, folding his hands primly. 

“Do you know any songs about the Dragonborn?”  She asked.

“I charge 25 gold for a song.  So if you are a generous fellow traveller - then of course.  What would you like to hear?”  He said, bowing extravagantly.

“Do you know one about the current Dragonborn?”  She asked and he nodded emphatically.

“Saadia, the beautiful warrior maiden, with skin as dark as…”  He paused and then pointed at her eyes, “And mixed eyes.”  He said gleefully.  “You are she!”

“And I’m not betrothed to Farkas.”  She said folding her arms. 

“Oh?”  He looked surprised, “The good people of Whiterun assured me it was so.  They said it was only a matter of time… That man is quite legendary himself, as are his bedroom exploits.  He has never been with a lover more than but a handful of times, he prefers to move on… but then there’s you…”

“How do people know about that?”  She asked, exasperated.

“Good news travels fast in Skyrim!”  He said, “imagine, the Dragonborn, finding love with one of the mightiest warriors in all of Skyrim.”  He held his arms out as if addressing an audience, “It could have only been scripted better had it been Vilkas.”  He said and she cocked an eyebrow at him in disbelief, “He is easier to see in a Kingly light than Farkas is.”  He explained.

“Kingly?”

“Well many speak of the Dragonborn being the rightful ruler of the Empire.”  He said, “You bring so much hope to the common people; they believe you will set everything aright.” 

“Well I’m trying my hardest, but I don’t have my sights set on any crowns.”  She said narrowing her eyes, “I’ve been focussed on killing Alduin.”

“So it is true that the World-Eater has returned?”  He asked dramatically.

“Yes, and that should be enough for your stories, so lay off the betrothed garbage… and any thoughts of kings or queens or empire-ruling, alright?”

“Of course.”  He bowed deeply again.  She couldn’t help but smile at this good-natured performer.  She loved bards so much.

“Can you teach me to be a bard?”  She asked.

“I have no time for such an undertaking.  But if you're serious about sharpening that tongue, you might try the Bard's College in Solitude.”

“I’ll think about it.” She answered.  “Do you think you’ll ever settle down in one town?”

“Ah.”  He chuckled, “Well, after a little incident with a roguish lad and the daughter of a prominent Thane... Well, let's just say, it’s best not stay in one place for too long.”

“Sounds like you had a lot of fun.”  Saadia laughed.

“Oh I did.  And I still do!” 

They shared the road together for some time; a pleasant journey.  Until he had to turn to head to Dawnstar, and she had to turn to head to Dragon Bridge.  She hoped she’d see him around again. 

She picked up the pace and ran on through the stunning scenery; every time she thought she had finally come to terms with Skyrim’s beauty something else would take her breath away: seeing two giants leading a herd of mammoths to the river to drink and swim, the mountains in the distance, a Dragon circling in the far distance, butterflies all around, the air heavy with the scent of spring flowers, salmon jumping upstream. 

She had to stop for a moment and take it all in. 

But she knew to be careful; it was best not to get too close to giants and their mammoth herds.  So she ran on far sooner than she truly wanted to. 

It was late when the huge stone dragon head of the bridge loomed over her. 

She headed straight to the inn and booked a room, ordered some food and spiced wine before settling in to people watch.  The inn was quite; barely anyone there, no bard.  Saadia had never been in such a quiet inn. 

She struck up a conversation with the inn owner; Faida, who gossiped about everyone, particularly a married couple Horgeir and Olda.  Apparently Olda was far more interested in her brother in law, Lodvar, than her husband.  Apparently, the whole town knew she was having an affair with her husband’s brother, except for him. 

Saadia used to enjoy gossip, but now she couldn’t help but wonder what sort of things were being said about her. 

She headed off to bed early, keen to get a rare good, long night of sleep.

 

***

 

The next day Saadia took a look around the little town; it was the smallest settlement she’d seen to date. 

She walked around, no one really paying any heed to her; even the guards ignored her.  There were only a few buildings, and the first one she took real notice of was the farm.  She supposed if she wanted the people to talk to her; she should feed them. 

She knew from Faida, the barkeeper at the inn, that the farmland here was owned by the Lylvieve family.  Azzada was a Redguard man, so Saadia was keen to meet him.  He had a Breton wife name Michel and 2 children Julienne and Clinton.  Faida had been a font of information. 

“Hi.”  She said as she walked up the stairs to the cottage, looking over the farmland that spread out from the cottage; a woman was working the land, while the man was boxing some leeks on the veranda, carefully laying the vegetables in and putting shipping labels on the lids. 

“Hi!”  He said, breaking out into a grin, “it’s good to see a fellow Redguard!” 

“I’m Saadia.”  she said.

“Azzada.”  He replied, “My wife Michel is in the fields now.”  He said nodding towards her. 

“You seem happy.”  Saadia found his happy energy infectious.

“Got a loving wife, a gem of a daughter, a healthy son and a patch of land to call my own.”  He answered, his smile somehow broadening, “What more could a man ask for?”  He watched his wife working for a moment and sighed wistfully, “She’s so wonderful.”  He said, “"If it weren't for Michel, I'd probably be dead in a Markarth gutter by now.”  He added.

“You’re from Markarth?”  She asked, “You weren’t born in-”

“Born and raised in Markarth.”  He answered, “Well I grew up an orphan on the streets of Markarth actually.”  He corrected, “My parents died before the Great war.”  His eyes went back to his leeks, “I'd have died there, too, but for the kindness of an old warrior named Logrolf the Bent.  Logrolf rescued me and gave me enough money to get out of the city.  I followed the Karth river north, and came here.  When I met Michel, I knew this was where I belonged, because I belonged wherever she was!  I suppose that's my whole life story really.”

“It’s beautiful here.”  She observed.

“Oh yes friend,” He agreed, “We aren't a big city like Solitude or Markarth, but we like it this way.”

“What can you tell me about the town… the bridge?”  She asked. 

“Oh well the bridge is ancient.”  Azzada answered, “the bridge has been here since before the town.  We’re all worried that the civil war will see it destroyed.”

“Why?”

“Well it’s the only bridge to cross the Karth River for a long way in either direction.  Could be that one side might blow it up to stop the other side from crossing.”  He sighed, “Seen some mean-spirited folk pass through lately.  People like that… they won’t think about the consequences of their actions.  Thought I was rid of those sorts when I left Markarth.”

“What sort of mean-spirited folk?”  Saadia was hoping there’d be a request for help in this. 

“Both the Imperials and Stormcloaks have sent riders this way, scouting the bridge and the lands nearby.  They stayed at the inn, but didn't pay.”  He said, clearly frustrated, “They said soldiers don't need to pay because they're risking their lives to protect us.  And that's not all.”  He moved in closer to Saadia so he could speak in a softer voice, “They took a heap of our lumber, and one tried to have his way with my daughter.  She came home from her work at the inn, crying and shaking… They think they can do whatever they want.”  He was clearly furious. 

“You must worry about the safety here?”  She asked as she saw his little boy running around with a pet goat; patrolling the town. 

“Of course.”  He nodded, “Every night I pray that we don't get a visit from a Dragon, or that two armies don't show up to fight over the bridge.  You ask if I'm worried?  I'm terrified, if you want to truth of it.”  He intimated, “But I have to stay strong for my wife and children.”  He looked over at his son, questioning one of the guards about being a soldier. 

“Well if you need any help feeling safer, friend – you just ask.”  She said, “My sword could use some action.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”  He said.

“But right now, do you need help with the leek harvest?”

“That would be most appreciated!”  he said and clapped her on the back.  They walked out to the fields, “Michel, this is Saadia and she wishes to help us for a time,”

“Wonderful!”  Michel said, “Thank you so much.”

“It’s my pleasure.”  Saadia said, and knelt beside Michel to start pulling leeks.

“Azzada, did you read that letter from Markarth yet?”  Michel said as she continued working.

“Yes, just this morning.  It was from Logrolf.  He wrote to thank us for the food we sent.”

“And how is that old warrior doing these days?”  She asked with a fond smile.

“Not well.  He's convinced that his house is haunted, so he's sleeping on the street.”

“Oh dear.”  Her faced dropped, “I wish there was something we could do to help him.”

“As do I.”  Azzada said sadly, “That man saved my life.  I hope that someone helps him, as he once helped me.”

“When I go out to Markarth I could look in on him.”  Saadia offered, not sure when she’d ever get out there. 

“Thank you friend.”  Azzada said, “It’s so rare to meet a kind person like yourself.” 

She worked all morning, stopping in at the inn for a late lunch with the intent of checking out the lumber mill; the only other apparent business in the town, afterwards.

She saw a building standing apart, red flags waving on either side of the door; the only outpost for the Penitus Oculatus in Skyrim.  She had read about them in books from Delphine’s library; they replaced the Blades as the personal security guards to the emperor after the Blades were destroyed by the Aldmeri Dominion.  They also ran espionage for the Empire. 

She went into the building out of curiosity; a military building in every way, a soldier eating rations at the table.

“I’m fairly certain you wandered into the wrong building, friend.”  His tone was friendly, but there was no denying the undertone of danger, of threat. 

“Oh sorry.”  Saadia pretended to be lost and left. 

She decided her original plan of going to the lumber mill was probably the best after all and headed in that direction.

In the way, she saw a woman sweeping her balcony, muttering to herself.  Saadia looked down the road to the mill near the river and then back at the muttering woman. 

“Are you alright?”  She asked the woman. 

“He promised me, swore on his ancestors, that he'd give up the mead.”  Saadia saw anger, and underneath it a deep sense of betrayal, of frustration, guilt, shame… “And what do I find out?”  The woman raged on.  “He's been stashing drink in a cave nearby.  He even has some wolves guarding it.”  She could see that the woman was at the end of her rope, “I swear, I should just cut out his tongue.  That would be the end of it.”

“I could-”

“He’s an alcoholic!”  She spat angrily, “He drinks away all our money; he’ll leave us penniless.  We’ll lose the mill if he doesn’t control himself.” 

“You’re Olda.”  Saadia deduced.

“Oh I suppose Faida’s been talking about me again.”  She asked bitterly, “Saying I’m rutting Lodvar.”  Saadia heard the tears in her voice before bitterness overtook her and her tone turned to venom, “Well she just has to make an excuse for why he won’t bed her.” 

“She just told me that you and your husband Horgeir own the mill.”  Saadia said soothingly. 

“Oh.”  She said softly and jabbed her broom at the floor.  Saadia could see she was holding a lot inside.  A lot of fear and doubt. 

“I could go and find that stash of alcohol for you.”  Saadia said.

“The wolves will kill you.”  She said despondently.

“No they won’t.”  Saadia answered.

“Well if you find it… Bring me the bottle of Dragon’s Breath Mead, it’s his favourite.”  She said, “I want to smash it in front of him.”

“Alright…”  Saadia answered slowly. 

She said a short farewell and headed in the direction Olda had pointed, past the mill.  She saw the brothers out there, both sitting eating some gruel, having a break in between chopping wood. 

“Welcome traveller.”  One of the men called out, “Faida said there was a new person in town.”  Saadia noticed that the other man rolled his eyes at the mention of Faida; she knew instantly that this was Lodvar.

“Yeah, you must be Horgeir.”  She said.  “I just met your wife.

“Ah you must have frostbite then friend.”  He said, “Because my wife is the most spiteful shrew in all of Skyrim; I swear she’s got a chunk of ice where her heart ought to be!”  He laughed and nudged his brother.

“You shouldn’t speak ill of your wife brother.”  He said moodily. 

“You know what she’s like.” 

“I know what you’re both like.”  Lodvar said, “And regardless of it, you both chose to marry, you should work at it.  And keep your grievances private instead of disparaging her to strangers.”  He gave a polite nod to Saadia and she nodded back. 

“Bah!”  Horgeir brushed it off, “that bitch drives a man to drink.”  He muttered.

“Brother…”  Lodvar sighed.

“Well I’m just heading for a walk in the hills.”  Saadia said softly, starting to walk on.

“Careful, there’s wolves out there.”  Horgeir said, his eyes narrowing.

“I’ll stay away from them.”  Saadia answered.

“See that you do.”  He answered. 

She walked past the mill, wondering what had turned a marriage into such a hateful relationship.  They must have loved each other once, or else why get married? 

“It’d have to be something special to make me put on a ring.”  Saadia mumbled to herself as she wondered through the hills looking for a cave guarded by wolves. 

It didn’t take long for the first of the wolves to attack; six in all, 3 holding back to guard the alcohol in a box under an overhang. 

She killed them all, wondering how he’d managed to get their loyalty.  She took the bottle of Dragon’s Breath Mead but left the rest.  She didn’t want to get in the middle of their marriage; this had just been an exercise to get her swinging her sword again. 

She went back past the brother’s now chopping, and back into town.  Olda was scrubbing the stairs, still muttering darkly. 

Saadia handed her the bottle without a word and her mood instantly lifted.

“Stendarr’s blessings to you.”  She said taking the bottle.  But her mood darkened again quickly, “If my Horgeir doesn't give up the mead this time, I'll hit him over the head with it.”  She said sourly. 

“Well I’ll leave you to it.”  Saadia answered but Olda stopped her.

“Thanks.”  She said and handed her a small pouch of gold.  “There’s not many people around here willing to do something for me.”  Saadia saw the honesty in her voice and nodded.

“It was my pleasure Olda.  You take care of yourself.”

“I have to – no one else will.”

Saadia headed out of town, feeling a bit deflated; she was used to towns being a wealth of quests and requests… Dragon Bridge hadn’t been.  Although it was nice to meet another Redguard man other than the Alik’r, and he had been such a kind and good man too.  She enjoyed their happy marriage.  She wondered how many marriages were as happy as that one. 

She was just starting to wonder why she was thinking about marriage so much when she felt the familiar thrumming in the air.  A grin crossed her face.

“Dragon.”  She said as she looked up, now this was a good battle to get her swinging her sword again; much better than 6 wolves. 

It hovered above her and she laughed as it breathed deep about to Shout.  She leapt up into the air, slicing at its stomach.  The Dragon backed up, flying higher, roaring in outrage.

Saadia landed, whipped out her bow and aimed at its wings and eyes until it crashed down.

She killed it before it had even let out a Shout. 

She stood looking at it as its soul came to her and she bent it to her will; learned how to say the word she had learned in Kvenel’s tomb.  It seemed fitting that her easiest Dragon kill yet should bring that word to life. 

When she got home the house was empty, so she headed to Jorrvaskr.  Lydia and the entire Circle was watching Aela teach Lucia how to shoot a bow.  They all pretended to be eating outside and chatting, but she saw the way they all kept their eye on the lesson, all interested to see the girl’s progress. 

Aela was a stern but not unkind teacher, and Saadia watched from the doorway, smiling contentedly. 

Farkas stood beside Lucia, keeping Meeko in check; the dog wanted to play and be involved, and Aela stood on her other side, talking through her instructions in a concise calm tone

Vilkas turned to look at Saadia; apparently, no one else had seen her yet, she gave him a nod and he came over with a bottle of mead for her. 

“You look like you’re feeling better.”  He said.

“I am.” 

 


	14. Part 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sorry this is late - I've been really sick.
> 
> thank you for the well wishes i got! you are all so lovely!
> 
> here's a description of my illness if you want it: http://blue--green.tumblr.com/post/165702915486/im-still-sick-but-im-on-the-mend

PART 14

 

The wolf cubs were a delight.

There was no other way to put it. 

She had sat down at the first shrine on the way up to the Greybeards, letting Tarryn out of her pouch to chase butterflies.  She had wanted to look at the words; the story of her ancient history. 

And the alpha had come.  Growling at Tarryn at first, but Saadia had told her she was a friend, and the wolf had seemed to accept that.  She licked Saadia’s hands and ran off, returning with a cub held between her powerful jaws.  She dropped the cub in Saadia’s lap and ran off again. 

8 cubs in total.  They were boisterous and playful and they crawled all over her, nipping at her fingers and tumbling on the grass.  Eventually they seemed to overcome their natural mistrust and dislike for sabercats, probably because Tarryn seemed determined to play with them.  She watched the 8 cubs and Tarryn, quite a bit bigger than them, tumbling around, chasing each other and play fighting, while the rest of the pack settled in to sit with her, cleaning themselves and each other, nattering in little whines and yips to each other. 

She watched Tarryn beginning to learn the basics of hunting from her wolf playmates.  Saadia knew she’d have to visit the wolf pack more often.

She ended up spending so much time with the wolf pack that it was very late by the time she got to High Hrothgar.  She went to her space and settled into bed, Tarryn curling up above her hip in the curve towards her waist, Saadia putting a hand on the little cat’s back. 

In the morning, she saw Arngeir praying and waited for him to stop before asking for a new word, which he readily supplied.

“You are changed Dovahkiin.”  He said softly, looking at her with wonder, “Kynareth…”  He touched her forehead and Saadia nodded; that was where Kynareth had kissed her.  “You are truly blessed by the Gods.”  He lowered his head to her in deference.  “And you are growing.”  He noted and she nodded.

“Did you know what lay in wait for me in Volunruud?”  She asked and he shook his head slowly.

“No, but the Word Walls will be well guarded Dovahkiin.”

“Temper my power and growth with struggle.”  She muttered and he gave her a small smile.  “To teach me…”  She sighed. 

“What was in Volunruud?”

“Kvenel-”

“Ah, a master Tongue.”  He nodded, “An ancient Nord hero.” 

“He killed me.”  Saadia said, “How’s that for tempering?”

“And yet you stand before me.”  Arngeir said sagely, “Stronger than ever.”

Saadia accepted these words silently; he was right.  She was stronger.  And she had survived. 

“Master Arngeir, are there no masters of the Voice that aren’t men?”  She asked and he sighed.

“Not that I know of.”  He answered sadly.  “Other than the Dragon Priests, who often chose to remove their genitals entirely and take on the mantle of being sexless in order to focus entirely on worshipping their Gods.” 

“Ouch…”  Saadia said softly. 

“Yes, the process was deliberately agonising; a trial to prove their worth.”  Arngeir nodded.  “But they were none of them born that way, and as far as I know, no women, nor those born with the blessing of duality, nor those born sexless, have mastered the Voice.”

“Only men.”  Saadia sighed, feeling disappointed by that. 

She left and headed back down the mountain, letting Tarryn out to run with her, the wolf pack joining her for part of the journey. 

She headed straight to find the Word, travelling by night cross country to Dead Man’s Respite; where Arngeir had directed her.  She had noticed it was near where she’d found Meeko. 

Yells and the clashing of steel alerted her to a battle; another skirmish between the Stormcloaks and the Imperials.  She hoped Ralof wasn’t in the battle, and slipped off into the night; she wanted there to be no civil war.  She wanted no part in it. 

She camped in a shallow cave to get a few hours’ sleep before heading on at the break of dawn.

Dead Man’s Respite wasn’t like the other burial sites she’d been to.  There were huge stone arches, comprised of two huge slabs of rock standing next to each other, and a third, equally massive slab of rock atop of them.  And there were several of these huge arches, arranged around the stairs, leading up to an altar, and behind the altar another set of stairs leading to a door in the domed building.  The roof seemed to flow up out of the earth itself, the wall with the door in it peeking out from under it. 

The first thing she noticed when she walked in was the ghost standing across the room.  Saadia wondered if this was a real ghost or someone pretending to be a ghost; she’d experienced both.  She unsheathed her sword and watched the ghost warily.  But he beckoned to her and then walked right through the gate that locked off the next room.

“So, real, then.”  Saadia said to herself. 

She looked around the room for a way to open the gate and found a ruby Dragon claw on a pedestal.  She could see that picking up the claw would set off a trap of some sort.  She also noticed an ebony door off to the side.  She decided to check that out first, even though ebony doors were usually trouble… all doors in tombs with Word Walls were trouble. 

It ended in a dead end, and Saadia was sure this would be where the back exit came out.  She thought she saw a slight crack in the wall and ran her fingers along it. 

“This is it.”  She whispered and tried to pry her fingers into it.  She looked around for something to try and pry the door open, refusing to use her sword; Eorlund had been unimpressed with the state it had been in when she’d brought it to him for repair.  “Damn you Delphine.”  She grumbled as she futilely tried to get her fingers in the crack and open the secret door; she knew it was here. 

Eventually she had to give up, admitting she just didn’t know how to get in the back door.  She grumbled about Delphine the whole way back to the main room, and picked up the ruby claw, stuffing it in her satchel as the lids of sarcophagi predictably flew off, the gate to the next room also opening. 

There were a dozen angry draugr staring at a moody Saadia, holding up her greatsword.  She could see that these were lesser draugr; bad armour, cheap, blunt weapons. 

“Easy.”  She said as she hacked them down, each draugr falling with a single swipe of her incredibly sharp greatsword.  “Nice job Eorlund.”  Saadia said with a huge grin, enjoying the ease of this battle. 

She headed through the door and saw several skeevers at the end of the corridor, near where the tunnel narrowed into a doorway.  As soon as they saw her they all ran towards her to attack.

But dozens of spears shot out of the walls, floor and ceiling around the doorway at the end of the tunnel, completely closing off the doorway and skewering half of the skeevers in the process. 

Saadia froze and looked closely at the floors; the traps were cleverly hidden here under the carvings in the solid stone floor.  But she could see them; the spirals in the patterns went the other way over the traps.  She watched the spears slowly recede back into the walls, floor and ceiling, the skeever bodies slowly pushed off them, leaving blood all over the place.  The other skeevers hesitated, not wanting to run up the corridor, and instead ran off in the other direction. 

“Watch your feet Saadia.”  She reminded herself and headed down the corridor, past the trap.  There was no sight of the skeevers in the next corridor, but Saadia remained alert; she didn’t need to get Rockjoint again, and that wasn’t even the worst thing a skeever bite could give you!

When she finally came to the catacombs at the end of the many corridors, the ghost was there again.  The ghost looked like a young Nord man, and he was beckoning to her again. 

She followed the ghost, past draugr that remained asleep in the stone beds.  He led her to a room with a pair of frostbite spiders in it.

A breeding pair of frostbite spiders. 

The ghost continued on, not paying attention to the spiders as they started spitting poison at Saadia, spiderlings swarming towards her. 

“YOL!” 

The spiderlings screamed in painfully high-pitched agony as the fire engulfed them.  But many got past the fire and started climbing up her body; as big as her head, they bit at her armour, trying to get to her flesh, while their parents continued to attack.

Saadia killed the parent spiders easily enough, but the hundreds of spiderlings were harder to kill, simply because of their sheer numbers and swarming nature.  She set fire to everything in the room, Shouting at them, and glad she’d put a dagger in her boot; the smaller blade was necessary to stab all the spiderlings on her body. 

When she had finally killed them all she looked at where the ghost had walked through the wall; it was covered in spider webs and she used her dagger to cut through them before putting it back in her boot.  It was solid rock.  She looked around a found a chain, covered in spider webs, hidden in a dark corner.  When she pulled it, the solid rock rotated open. 

More catacombs, more draugr, more frostbite spiders… but this place was like a maze.  She pulled chains to open doors to more catacombs that looked exactly like the ones before, and when she pulled a chain that led to a room with an already dead draugr in it, she was certain she was going around in circles. 

She pulled another chain and this door opened to a passage leading downward.  She let out a deep breath of relief and continued on down the heavily trapped corridor, carefully avoiding all of the traps. 

When she came to a room with 2 large circular grates on the floor, one overlooking solid rock with a few dead draugr, the other one overlooking water, and Gods knew what was in the water, Saadia sighed.

“Are you joking?”  She asked the room as she looked around.  Another, much smaller pair of frostbite spiders appeared when she crossed the room, and she killed them quickly, finding their nest and setting fire to their eggs afterwards. 

The room was a dead end.  She looked back at the grates on the floor and sighed loudly, traipsing over to them to look down through the grating. 

“A broken leg falling down that one.”  She said looking at the dead draugr, “And possibly drowning down that one.”  She said looking at the calm still water far below the opening.  She looked around for a button, or a lever and found a chain on the wall.  “Ugh alright.”  She said and pulled it, “The things I do for Words of Power.” 

The grate over the water opened.

“Of course.”  She sighed.  She peered down at the water, wishing she could see what she was getting herself into.  She didn’t know if there was something in the water, and even if this hole would lead somewhere, or just leave her floating in the water, unable to get out.  “Ugh, Gods damnit.”  She sheathed her greatsword and took a deep breath.

She jumped in, hoping the water was deep enough.

The water was icy cold, and it was dark down here, getting darker the further down her momentum took her.  But she had caught a quick glimpse of a corridor near the surface of the water.  So she knew there was a way forward. 

Her downward momentum stopped and she pushed her hands through the water to bring herself back up, when something gripped her ankle.

Saadia reached down and freed the dagger from her boot, luckily the draugr had not gripped that ankle.  She hacked at the fingers gripping her ankle tightly.  She saw dozens of glowing blue eyes glaring up at her, hands reaching out of the darkness to rip at her, to hold her down. 

She freed herself from the hand only to have another hand grip her wrist.  She twisted her wrist, trying to free it, swapping the dagger into her other hand and had her ankles gripped again. 

She was starting to feel her lungs burn as she hacked at the hand on her wrist, trying to kick her ankles free.  But another set of hands grabbed her wrist, even as she tried to hack them away from her. 

They dragged her down, her body desperate for air.

“FEIM!”  She Shouted underwater and suddenly all the draugr hands closed on nothingness; she as ethereal.  She wouldn’t float upwards without help; her armour was too heavy.  Her feet touched down on the bottom and she could see nothing but glowing blue eyes on her; hundreds of them.  She backed away, finding the darkest part of the water, desperate for air and willed herself corporeal again. 

“FUS RO DAH!”  She had nothing left, no air.  The draugr were all pushed up against the opposite wall, the force of her Shout only a little muted by the water.  In the darkness it felt almost impossible to know which way was up or down.  But she knew to swim away from the glowing eyes.  And she clawed desperately at the water, pulling herself upwards towards the surface and sweet air. 

She knew they would be following; she knew she would have to get out of the water as quickly as possible so she could better fight them. 

Finally her head broke the surface and she gasped, sucking in as much air as her lungs could take.  She made herself swim to the tunnel she could see, even though she was gasping for air. 

The tunnel was knee deep in water, and she’d never been more happy to have her feet on solid ground.  She spun and looked over the gently rippling water, unsheathing her sword, dripping with water, panting heavily. 

But they did not come.  Saadia waited until the water was still, but still they did not follow. 

She hesitated to turn her back on the pool of water, but she had to move on.  She crept up the corridor as silently as the water would allow, her head swivelling often to look over her shoulder. 

This was the most decrepit she’d ever seen any of these ruins be.  Crumbling walls covered with slimy mould and crawling insects, water dripping off every surface – it felt like it was raining inside, and the place was infested with skeevers.

She hacked her way through the skeevers, making her way to a room with dozens of sarcophagi, all of them opening as soon as she stepped in the room.  She hacked her way through the draugr, only having a slight problem with the spell caster; more ice spells.  Her fire Shout was particularly useful; the dead burned well.

There was a spiral ramp leading up to a stone walkway stretching over the room.  But as soon as she stepped on the stone walkway, dozens of axes started swinging.

Saadia laughed softly; it was so predictable sometimes… and sometimes it felt like cheating.  She Whirlwind Sprinted through them, the axes looking slow and harmless as she sped past them.

At the end of the narrow stone bridge was another spiral ramp leading up to a ledge with a small wooden and iron door. 

Saadia had to duck her head to get through the low door.

At the end of the corridor there was a huge set of wood and iron doors.  Saadia put her hand on the door handle and was blown backwards by an electrical charge.

She hit the wall at the other end of the short corridor, the small open door beside her as she got to her feet.

“Alright.”  She said, panting, “Not that way…”  But she felt the pull of a Word Wall from behind that door. 

It was obviously magically sealed.  She went back up to it and looked closely at the wood; it was sparking purple with electricity. 

She looked to the right at the small corridor that led off this main corridor.  She had no choice but to go that way.  Hopefully she’d find a way to break this spell down this way.   

“Catacombs…”  She grumbled as she looked around carefully for any sign of a way to break the spell. 

The catacombs were set up like honeycomb, rooms on rooms of stacked up draugr; some awakening to challenge her, others remaining in their eternal slumber. 

She walked past a doorway for one of the small rooms of stone beds and a sudden blast of ice caught her.  She raised her sword, expecting to see a draugr… but there was just a small stone pillar, a petty soul stone above it, powering a sentinel trap.  She walked up to the trap, even as it blasted her with ice and took the soul stone.  The trap was broken instantly.  She looked down at the pretty pink stone.  She knew mages used these stones to trap the souls of all sorts of living beings, including Humans, to power their spells… She remembered M’aiq telling her that he had been soul trapped once.  She wondered how he had escaped and wondered what kind of soul was trapped in this stone, being used to power this trap for so many thousands of years. 

The catacombs faded into stone walls with intricate carvings on the walls; all about worshipping the deities, as usual.  There were doors with tricky locks with rooms filled with treasure chests with tricky locks – as usual.  Saadia’s lock-picking was getting better, and her strength was better too; she carried a lot of loot out of these ruins. 

“Obviously a trap.”  She said as she peered into the next room she came across. 

There was an open gate, hanging over the entrance to the room, 3 gated doors looked in on the room; each with draugr behind them, straining to get at her as she stood at the doorway.  There was a round grated hole on the floor, and an obvious chain to pull on the wall. 

She could see treasure chest behind the pacing draugr in one of the gated rooms. 

“I’m going to step through these doors, the gate will slam down behind me and you ugly bastards will be set free to try and kill me.”  She said to the draugr across the room, reaching through the gates to try and get to her. 

Seeing its arms through the gate, she stepped forward, hearing the gate snap shut behind her, but also seeing the gate in front of her fly up into the ceiling, dragging the draugr with it, snapping its arms off when it hit the slot in the ceiling it went into. 

It was only 9 draugr.  None of them with magic spells, none of them big or with good weapons.

It only took 7 sword swings to finish them all.

She looted, she sung to herself, she walked to the chain and pulled it.

The grate over the hole in the middle of the floor slid open.  She looked down at the rickety wooden stairs spiralling down and shook her head.

“Why did it have to be you?”  She asked the ominously creaking stairs as she stepped onto them. 

Spider webs covered the walls and stairs and Saadia grumbled about how angry she’d be if frostbite spiders attacked her on theses stairs all the way down. 

And then she hit an unexpected dead end.  She looked around the small area under the stairs for a button of some sort to open the apparently hidden door down here. 

She found a small handle and pulled it.  It came out from the wall, still attached to it with a small stick like appendage stuck to the back of the handle.

Nothing happened.

She twisted it and then it sucked itself back into the wall and the door slowly slid open. 

She saw that this had once been a corridor; but it has caved in, and right in front of her was the ghost, sitting amongst the rubble, looking down at an old, desiccated corpse.  It must have been here for some time.  Probably thousands of years.

“That’s you?”  She understood and the ghost nodded, looking sadly at the corpse.  She watched him, and he simply continued to look at the dead body.  So she reached down and started to search the body, “You want me to find something?  To bury-” She stopped when she found a book.  It was ancient and worn.  She looked up at the ghost and his eyes were on the book now.  “You wanted me to find this?”  She asked and he nodded.  Saadia opened the book; it was part of the poetic Edda; part of the living history of Skyrim.  She took a deep breath in sharply; it was about King Olaf the One-Eyed.  It claimed he was a fraud.  And by the looks of the book, it was as old as King Olaf was, meaning it was written when the king was alive, and could be the only living primary source of information about him.  Some of the words were smudged, but enough of them were clear to tell the story of fraud.  She turned to the first page, “Authored by Svaknir.”  She read out loud, “you’re Svaknir?”  The ghost nodded, “You knew King Olaf…?  And know he was a fraud?”  The ghost nodded again.  “I understand Svaknir; this is part of the poetic Edda, I know that this is sacred text and must be returned to the Bard’s College in Solitude.”  The ghost smiled, looking relieved, he nodded.  “I’ll see it done.”  She promised.  The ghost stood and started to walk back the way they had come.  Saadia followed. 

He opened the gate in the trapped room, and let her back through, all the way to the magically sealed doors. 

He shot a ball of energy from his ghostly hands at the doors and they opened.  Saadia wanted to ask him if he had put the spell on the door to force people down the side corridor to find his body.  Or if the spell had always been there and he had figured out how to bring it down while waiting centuries for someone to come and help him.  But he had already begun walking on through the next room – the Hall of Stories, and at the end was a ringed door.  The ghost went straight through the ringed door.

“Wait!”  She said, wanting to follow him, to see where he went.  She pulled out the ruby Dragon claw and looked at the symbols on it.

Wolf, eagle, wolf.

She pushed the rings around on the big round door, making the symbols match up, putting the ruby Dragon claw into the keyhole, opening the door. 

The intricate carvings continued on the walls of the next corridor, and Saadia went faster than she normally would, trying to find the ghost. 

Quite suddenly she burst out into a huge chamber, with at least 50 draugr sitting in formal chairs looking down on what looked like an arena pit; a place to watch people fight to the death.  The pit had a shallow layer of water in it, and the ghost stood ankle deep in the water, looking at the draugr sleeping in their chairs.  At the other side of the fighting pit, she saw an altar, and behind that a set of stairs lead up to a landing with several throne chairs, with huge, dangerous looking draugr sleeping in them, in a place of honour looking over both the pit and the audiences. 

And she knew; she could hear the call of it – the Word Wall was behind the thrones.  There was a heavy mist in the chamber, and she couldn’t see anything that far back clearly.  But she thought she could almost see another set of stairs behind the thrones, another platform – a sarcophagus atop it.  and there was no doubt in Saadia’s mind that the Word Wall was curving behind the sarcophagus. 

The pull of the Word was strong, but she was finding it easier to control the pull of the Words as she got more and more words and Dragon souls. 

She knew she had quite a few draugr to kill before she got to get that Word and she looked back at the fighting pit.

She wondered why the draugr did not wake up, the ghost stood in between them, looking at them; awaiting the battle.  But they did not stir.  Saadia stepped forward to stand next to the ghost; ready to fight.

And almost immediately the draugr awoke.

And she understood; it was the living that made them stir.  That was why the ghost had needed her to come with him to this battle; he could not wake the dead – he was dead. 

“Olaf.  It is time.”  The ghost said loudly as the draugr began rushing in to kill them – to kill Saadia. 

But Svaknir had been a warrior bard in life – and he continued to be so in death.

Saadia was amazed at how viciously and effectively he fought the draugr; he was a useful companion in a fight like this – she didn’t have to worry about him dying. 

They hacked their way through the draugr, Svaknir not bothering to block any of their blows; he could let their blades simply go through him and then make himself solid again when he brought his sword down on them.  With his help, they got through the first wave of draugr quickly, stepping up the stairs towards what Saadia was thinking of as the ‘royal draugr.’

They awoke the minute she put her foot on the steps, their eyes blazing to light. 

“Arise Olaf!”  The ghost cried, “My vengeance is at hand!”  But there was no response from the sarcophagus, where Saadia assumed Olaf was resting.  She had no doubt that he would awake when she started up the stairs to his platform. 

“FUS!” 

“Of course…”  Saadia grunted as she held her ground against the Shout of the draugr royals. 

The Shout simply went right through the ghost and he slammed his sword into the skull of the first royal.

“YOL!”  Saadia set the others on fire and between them they easily finished off the second wave of draugr before they had a chance to Shout again. 

As soon as Saadia’s foot hit the bottom step of the stairs leading up to Olaf’s sarcophagus, the chanting became almost deafening. 

“OLAF!”  The ghost bard shouted as the lid to the sarcophagus flung across the room.  Saadia looked at the Word Wall behind the sarcophagus; just where she’d knew it would be.  In front of it, the tips of the horns on an ornate helmet were rising form the sarcophagus, desiccated, mummified fingers, closing over the edges. 

He looked a lot like the draugr overlords, only much meaner, and much angrier.  He climbed out of his sarcophagus and saw Svaknir.

“Insolent bard!”  His voice boomed, yet slithered like some long forgotten ancient snake winding its way through eons of history.  “Die!” 

“FUS RO DAH!”  Olaf Shouted and Saadia fell back, the corpses of draugr flying past her, Svaknir allowing the Shout to go through him before attacking Olaf. 

Saadia got to her feet and sprinted up the stairs, bringing her sword crashing down on his helmet.  He swung his axe at her and she leapt back.  In the same movement Olaf continued the swing of his axe through Svaknir’s stomach. 

“YOL!”  She set him on fire with her Shout and he shrieked at her.  He slammed his axe into her greatsword as she raised it to block him.  And he swung it down again, faster than any opponent she’d been against.  She put a hand to the flat of her blade, near the tip, to steady it as blow after blow rained down on her. 

Behind him, the bard ghost was slamming his sword uselessly against Olaf’s heavily armoured back. 

“FO KRAH DIIN!”  Frost breath shot from Olaf’s mouth and Saadia dropped to her knees, barely missing a full blast of frost in her face.  She was sure the Masque of Clavicus Vile would have protected her from some of it… but better to be safe than sorry.  He continued to slam the axe into her greatsword; she was blocking every blow, now above her head. 

“FEIM!”  She Shouted just as his axe was slamming down on her greatsword.  Olaf’s sword sailed straight through her ethereal form and lodged itself into the ground.  Saadia rolled away as the draugr-king roared in fury, reefing his axe out of the ground.  She jumped up, made herself solid and slammed her greatsword down on the back of Olaf’s neck.  His armour stopped her from beheading him. 

He turned swinging his axe and caught Saadia on the upper arm, crunching her bones. 

“Not another one.”  She grunted through the pain; another hard-hitting enemy that was hard to put down.  She had flashbacks to Kvenel and felt herself freezing.  “MOVE!”  she yelled at herself and swung her sword up to Olaf’s neck again, before rolling away to avoid his blow.  Her arm was crying out in pain; broken again, her armour had stopped a cutting wound but not the brutal impact of Olaf’s weapon. 

Saadia could feel she was breathing harder than normal; she was panicking.  She forced herself to take a deep breath, to focus her mind as her sister had trained her.  She watched Olaf trying to hack at Svaknir as she got her breathing and mind under control. 

“I beat Kvenel.  I’ll beat Olaf.”  She said firmly and got to her feet, her eyes taking in his armour.  Like all armour it was weak at the armpits, but also at the clavicle where the shoulder plates tied with leather strips to the breast plate. 

And Saadia had her plan of attack.

She lunged at Olaf, and he blocked her blow, she flicked her greatsword, both of her wrists nudging the tip up with expert precision and timing, making his axe fling backwards.  Olaf managed to keep hold of it, but Saadia had her opening and she stabbed Olaf through the shoulder and pulled her razor sharp greatsword out upwards, semi-severing his arm.  He roared and swung his axe at her, his other arm uselessly hanging limply at his side, swinging around with his momentum.  Saadia leapt back, allowing Olaf’s momentum to bring him into striking distance again and she brought her sword down hard across his back forcing him down, then brought her knee up hard into his face. 

Svaknir took a leaf out of Saadia’s book and stabbed Olaf through the back of his shoulder, where the armour was weak, but his sword could not cut through the gristly, dried corpse of a draugr, so he had to pull it straight out, not sideways. 

Olaf swung his axe at Svaknir’s knees, but his blade went straight through the ghost and Olaf roared in frustration as he got to his feet and honed his attention on Saadia; at least he could harm her. 

Saadia skilfully blocked all of his blows, but she could tell his power had been lessened by Svaknir’s stab.  And the ghost continued to stab at that weakened spot while Olaf tried desperately to at least kill Saadia.  But Saadia just blocked him, letting Svaknir do his work of a thousand tiny cuts, when Olaf Shouted, she ducked, and continued to block. 

It didn’t take long for Svaknir to make Olaf’s left arm completely useless, the king’s axe clattering to the ground as his arm lost all strength. 

Saadia laughed as she slammed her sword through his clavicle and pulled it out sideways, then stabbed through the clavicle again, this time bringing her sword the other way – across the king’s chest, severing his spine, beheading him with half of his shoulders still attached. 

Saadia felt the itching in her upper arm of Kynareth’s Kiss healing her as she watched Olaf’s head hit the floor.  She felt a huge sense of satisfaction as she saw the dead king slumped on the floor.  She turned to the ghost as she sheathed her sword and saw the same expression on his face.

The ghost nodded to her.

“Thank you Dragonborn.”  His voice was growing faint, “You too shall become part of Skyrim’s living history.”  He turned and walked away, taking out a lute and starting to sing ‘The Dragonborn Comes’ as a bright light started to glow around him.  Saadia had to shield her eyes as the light grew lighter and then suddenly disappeared, taking the ghost of Svaknir the warrior-bard with it. 

She took a deep breath and turned to the Word Wall, the chanting calling her, pulling her in.  She went to it like an old friend, an old lover, comforting, familiar. 

The word was Nah, and it meant fury, and she could feel it within her mind, slotting into place like a jigsaw puzzle with Wuld; now she knew 2 words of the Whirlwind Sprint Shout.  She just needed a Dragon soul to unlock this second word, to teach her how to say it. 

She searched Olaf, only using her one hand, giving her broken arm a rest, and found an ebony sword that he hadn’t even used, sheathed and in pristine condition.

“This is worth so much coin…”  She breathed and put it in her satchel, happy with this loot.  She also found a key and looked over at the ebony door to the side of the Word Wall. 

There were several treasure chests and a lot of gold, gems and armour in the room, and then a corridor, leading to a concealed door, opened with a chain; an exit – opening exactly where Saadia had thought it would.

“I must learn how to get in through the out door.”  She muttered. 

As she traipsed out of the ruins, she decided to find the Dragon she had seen circling earlier on, and kill it, and take its soul so she could learn her new Word. 

It was a tough battle, several frostbite spiders attacked at the same time, and she vomited from their poisoning.  But she killed them all and learned the Word, bleeding, her hair singed from Dragon fire, and her stomach rolling from frostbite spider poison. 

She muttered to herself about spider poison as she began her journey home; she had been able to avoid being hit by poison since that first time with Hadvar.  But this had been different; a Dragon does tend to take one’s attention away from small things like spiders, even if those spiders are massive frostbite spiders. 

She came across a trader’s caravan that had obviously been attacked by the Dragon.  She felt saddened as she saw all the dead bodies; these traders had hired guards, and they’d done their best to protect the caravan. 

She found a massive Dwarven warhammer on one of the guards.  It was hefty, and did a lot more damage than her greatsword.  She looked at her greatsword; a gift, of sorts, from Farkas.  She’d miss it…

She met Farkas on the road on the way home, covered in blood and steaming angry.  He’d been ambushed by Silver-Hands during what had supposed to have been a routine job.  They had upped their game – they were getting citizens of Skyrim to hire the Companions for work so they could ambush them.

“What worries me is that they’ll attack the whelps.”  Farkas said; the whelps were often sent to easier jobs to earn themselves some coin.  “They wouldn’t stand a chance.” 

“We have to escalate too then.”  Saadia answered grimly.  “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, the Beastblood will heal it all quick enough; it’s mostly their blood not mine.  None of them are alive to report back to their masters.”  He said grimly.

“Do you think it would have gone better or quicker with your greatsword?”  She asked, thinking of the warhammer she’d found.

“Don’t you mean your greatsword?”  He answered. 

“It’s just…”  She took the Dwarven warhammer off her back and handed it to him, “I found this…”

“That’s nice.”  He said feeling the heft of the weapon. 

“So I’m thinking… If you want your sword back?”

“No.  Keep it.”  Farkas said instantly, “It was a gift.” 

“It would be a shame for such a beautiful weapon to be left on a weapon rack.”  She lamented and Farkas eyed the sword longingly.  “But how about it lives in my home in Whiterun…”  She said, “And you can borrow it any time you want?” 

“That sounds fair.”  He said with a satisfied grin, “But I’d need a key to your house.”

“You only have to ask for it…”  She teased and he stopped walking and turned to her.

“Can I have a key to your place?”  He asked, wondering if this meant something big for their relationship, or if it was just business as usual, but with keys involved now.  He didn’t know how he felt about either option. 

“What do you know?”  Saadia said handing him a key, “I just had Eorlund make up a few spares.”  They grinned at each other and he pulled her into his arms and kissed her deeply. 

“Hm, after I wash up, can I visit you at home?  Or is it a Lucia night?”  She asked.

“She will be visiting the Battle-Borns after dinner.”  Saadia answered and Farkas cocked a suggestive eyebrow at her.  “I was going to ask you to spend the night…”

“Done deal.”  He answered. 

She said goodbye to him at her front door; he headed home to Jorrvaskr to bathe and eat some dinner.  He’d be back around 10pm. 

She went in to have dinner with Lydia and Lucia. 

Lydia filled her in on all the little happenings of Whiterun, and Lucia told her all about her schooling, her friends…

“I don’t like Braith.”  Lucia complained, “She’s a big meanie; she’s always telling me and Lars what to do.  I don’t want to play with her anymore.”

“Then don’t.”  Saadia answered simply.

“But Mila says it’s mean if we all just stop playing with her.”  Lucia answered.

“Lucia honey, I firmly believe that some things, good or bad, just happen to people for no reason, and they just have to deal with it.  And some things, good or bad, happen to people because they deserve them, and they should learn from it.”  Saadia answered, “Perhaps she deserves some of her own medicine.” 

“Maybe.”  Lucia answered and sighed.  “But I don’t want to be a meanie like her.”  She said grumpily.

“Maybe I can talk to her parents-”

“No don’t do that.”  Lucia said quickly, “Mila says she has a bad home life.” 

“A bad home life is no excuse to be mean.”  Saadia said, “But it is an explanation.  I want you to know, that you don’t have to put up with bullying, simply because she has an explanation for her behaviour, alright?”

“Alright mama.”

“But maybe someone does need to help her out?”  She asked but Lucia looked afraid and shook her head.

“If she found out I’d told on her…” Lucia said softly.

“Alright.”  Saadia answered, “I’ll leave it alone for now; let you figure out your own way to fix it.  But if she’s still bullying you in a few months… I might have a talk to her or her parents.” 

“Alright mama.”  Lucia said glumly. 

“Are you excited to spend the night at Lars’s house?”  Saadia asked and Lucia instantly perked up. 

“Yeah!  He’s the nicest!” 

“Uh huh.”  Saadia said with a grin, “Jon says he’s going to teach you both how to write poetry.”  She said, having checked out with the entire family what would be happening when Lucia spent the night. 

“I know!  I can’t wait!” 

When Lucia headed out to the Battle-Born house Saadia turned to Lydia.

“I have already planned to visit Dragonsreach.”  She said.

“You are a good friend!”  Saadia laughed.

“I am a great housecarl.”  Lydia answered, “And friend.” 

 

***

 

Saadia was yawning and sore when she left the house, very early the next morning.  It had been several nice, hard, long and sometimes rough fucks they’d shared last night.  Farkas was still in her bed, sleeping, but he’d be heading to a job with Vilkas as soon as he woke up – if Vilkas didn’t wake him up first, that was.  Vilkas could sometimes be impatient with Farkas’s sleeping patterns. 

Saadia on the other hand had decided that it was time to get rid of Meridia’s Beacon – the orb she’d found in the treasure chest behind Clavicus Vile’s statue. 

Last night, when Saadia had been pressed against the wall, Farkas’s big hands squeezing her breasts, his chest hard on her back, his cock deep in her kunte, her fingers on her clit, so close to orgasm… Meridia’s voice had boomed out – ‘do you really think you have time to be doing that while my temple lies in ruins?’  Farkas had nearly jumped out of his skin, ‘my temple isn’t going to cleanse itself you know?’  It had added in a demanding tone. 

After explaining to Farkas, and getting him to mark off on the map where he roughly thought the temple was, they had gotten back to it.  But she was sick of this beacon; there was some sort of magic spell over it that made her unable to take it out of her satchel.  And sometimes it would comment loudly, sometimes just in her head, sometimes out loud.  But often at inopportune moments; once giving away her location when she’d been trying to creep up on some bandits, while on a job for the Companions.  Her sneaking was bad enough as it was without this damned beacon helping the bandits out. 

It was time to deal with it.

She set off at a fast run, glad to be out and running; working off all the aches and bruises from last night’s revelries. 

It was quite a distance, but she made good progress; her stamina was getting stronger every day.  Distances in Skyrim were much larger than on the Ilse of Stirk, so she was glad to be finally getting her stamina up. 

It was the afternoon when she approached the temple; a huge statue of a woman with massive wings, in a long flowing robe, holding her arms up to the sky.  Saadia could feel the pull of a Word Wall nearby and furrowed her brows, looking off north-east; it was that way. 

“Look at my temple lying in ruins!”  The voice of the beacon; Meridia’s voice, boomed out.  Saadia sighed; the Word Wall would have to wait, she wanted this thing done.  “So much for the constancy of mortals; their crafts and their hearts.”  She lamented bitterly, “If they love me not, how can my love reach them?” 

Saadia grumbled a few responses about ‘why would you want to love someone who doesn’t love you?’ but said nothing openly; she didn’t want to get into a conversation with a Daedra, even if this Daedric Prince was considered to be one of the not entirely evil ones.  Her experiences with Clavicus Vile and Barbas had taught her well; get it done and get it over with – as quickly as possible. 

She climbed up the well-worn stairs to a landing at the base of the statue.

“Restore to me my beacon that I might guide you toward your destiny.”  Meridia commanded.

Saadia sighed and looked at the altar where the beacon was to go.

It was a statue of two women, facing each other, with their arms outstretched towards each other, palms facing up.  The beacon would sit atop their outstretched arms, presumably. 

She took the round, whiteish, greyish orb out of her satchel and put it on the altar; glad to be rid of it. 

But suddenly the earth fell away from beneath her feet, and a bright white light made her squeeze her eyes shut as air rushed past her and her stomach sunk with a vertiginous feeling. 

When the movement stopped, Saadia slowly opened her eyes and saw all of Skyrim spread out, hundreds of kilometres below her… she thought she might even be able to see the glistening sands of Hammerfell from here if she tried hard enough. 

“Oh…”  She gasped, wanting to grab hold of something; but she was simply floating in the air, there was nothing to grab. 

Saadia did not like this at all. 

The beacon had risen with her and floated in front of her, emanating a bright white light.  She wanted to reach out and grab hold of it for some sort of security, but instead she took a deep breath and steadied her racing pulse. 

“It is time for my splendour to return to Skyrim!”  Meridia said, her voice still coming from the beacon. 

“Uh huh…”  Saadia could barely make a noise; her hands were shaking and she had to work hard to focus her mind. 

“But the token of my truth lies buried in the ruins of my once great temple.  Now tainted by a profane darkness skittering within.”  Saadia nodded, trying to listen, her pulse slowly beginning to slow down.  “The necromancer Malkoran defiles my shrine with vile corruptions.  Trapping lost souls left in the wake of this war to do his foul bidding.”  Saadia didn’t like the sound of that at all; she knew she’d be killing Malkoran before this day was done.  With pleasure.  “Worse still, he used the power stored within my own token to fuel his foul deeds.  I have brought you here mortal to be my champion.”  Meridia declared, “You will enter the temple, destroy the defiler, and return my temple to its former glory and light.”

“It doesn’t really sound like I have a choice in the matter.”  Saadia said as she tried not to look down between her feet. 

“But a single candle can banish the darkness of the entire Void.”  Meridia answered, “If not you, then who else?  My beacon is sure to attract a worthy soul.  But if you are wise, you will heed my bidding.”  Meridia advised, “Go now, the artefact must be reclaimed, and Malkoran destroyed.”  She was very demanding and Saadia had to bite her tongue and remind herself not to get into arguments with Daedric Lords; it wasn’t worth the headache of talking to them for longer.  “Malkoran has forced the doors shut, but this is my temple, and it responds to my decree!”  Meridia declared, “I will send down a ray of light.  Guide this light through my temple and its doors will open!”

“Okay.”  Saadia answered and instantly felt the air suddenly whoosh past her body again.  She squeezed her eyes shut and gritted her teeth, knowing that Meridia meant to place her gently on the ground… surely…

She felt the ground beneath her feet and opened her eyes. 

She was back in front of the statue, the orb – Meridia’s beacon, was now floating between the outstretched hands of the statue of Meridia, a beam of pure light coming up from the ground, through the centre of the altar, reached up to the orb.  

“Okay.”  Saadia repeated and took a step; she’d never been more glad to feel solid rock beneath her feet. 

She headed down the stairs, looking for an entrance to the temple.  The statue was on a cliff, side, so she assumed the temple was beneath it, opening up onto the valley below.  All the better to look down on her worshippers as they lived their lives, Saadia supposed.

She turned back around at the base of the stairs and looked at the solid rock that formed the base of the statue; no signs of doors here.  So she walked around the side and found an ebony door carved into the rock.  She sighed.

“Bloody Daedric Lords.”  She sighed, grabbed her warhammer from her back, and opened the door. 

A fetid, foul smelling black mist hung in the air.

Saadia made a noise of disgust and Tarryn grumbled in her pouch.

“I know.”  She said to the cub as she walked further into the dim temple. 

The temple looked remarkably like a Nordic ruin and she had to wonder just how much Daedric worshipping the Nords were doing in the old days. 

She came to a few burial urns and opened up the first one; it was completely empty, even the ashes had been emptied out. 

“Ugh.”  She groaned; she needed to make money from these outings.  She had a daughter, 2 houses to maintain, and a steward to pay a wage to… Her manor was not yet making money, and digging out the tomb and converting it into useable space was costing a small fortune.  Faendal had begun on that work, even though Hadvar had not yet finished his work, and Camilla was working hard to get the manor to be liveable as soon as possible. 

Saadia looked at the next urn; it was empty too.  As was the next one - they all were. 

She continued through the temple and saw the first of the thousands of desecrated bodies she would see in the temple. 

There were obvious signs of magic, burned flesh, torn skin, eyes of bright silver… and…

“Oh…”  Saadia put a hand over her mouth.  The clothing had been torn away from the genitals and it looked like this man had been anally molested with a sword… “By the Gods.”  Saadia whispered and looked over at the next body, a female soldier with similar sings of magic experimentation… and bite marks on her breasts, her kunte exposed, her legs positioned lewdly.  Saadia felt her stomach roll in disgust when she realised that Malkoran wasn’t just magically experimenting on the dead.  He was sexually experimenting on them too. 

She looked up at the ceiling, feeling a little sick, and took a deep breath. 

She continued on, refusing to look at the bodies now. 

She came to the first large room and saw the pure light of the beacon streaming in through a small hole in the roof, it was hitting a small altar on a raised landing in the middle of the room.  The altar, had another orb inside a depression on top of it.

She walked up to the altar and stared at the orb; it was actually very beautiful.  The altar was intricately carved and the white gem shone with a purity she hadn’t expected from a Daedric Lord, given all the things she’d heard about them.  She gently touched the altar and the orb floated out of its depression and rose into the air, sending a ray of light off towards the door, hitting the orb held in a Dragon’s mouth above the door. 

The orb lit up brightly and the door opened. 

Saadia understood exactly what she had to do now; find all these altars and activate the orbs, guiding the light throughout the whole temple – the light would open the doors, and hopefully rid the temple of this fetid reeking fog. 

She went through the newly opened doors and down the corridor, seeing opened doors at the end.

There was a strange darkness down there.  Two spots of darkness that seemed to move restlessly. 

She crouched down and edged up the corridor, trying to get her eyes to make sense of the dark places ahead.

And then she saw the eyes.  Two angry, glowing, red spots near the top of each dark place – Saadia had no doubt they were eyes. 

As she got closer she saw that they were skeletons, as black as the night, a dark smoke undulated frantically around them, wisping through their ribs, out of their eyes, and… she looked down and saw they had no legs, the mist smudged downwards towards the floor, but thinned out, not touching the ground.  They were floating above the ground, brutal looking weapons in their hands; axes and swords, gleaming black with sharp deadliness. 

Saadia had a feeling that these would be hard opponents. 

She crept forward, wanting to get closer before letting them know she was there.

But one of them turned to her; hearing her, or sensing her living presence.  It opened its fiery red mouth in an unearthly shriek, and the other ghostly skeleton turned to her, another joining them, hissing at her as it raised its axe.

“Oh Gods…”  She breathed as they glared at her.  They flew towards her at an unbelievable speed, weapons swinging as soon as they were in range.  She blocked the first sword, then the axe, then the second sword in quick succession, backing up to try and get space between her and them; they were crowding in. 

But the first ghostly skeleton was already swinging again, cackling and howling and shrieking; the sound was teeth grindingly loud and shrill, and it seemed to resonate in discordant dissonance in her brain. 

It was disorienting.

Saadia blocked the sword, the axe, but missed the last sword, it swept through her armour, and straight through her midriff.

For a split second she felt elated; their weapons couldn’t harm her… and then she felt the aching chill begin from inside of her.  The skeletal monsters stared at her, their eyes glowing red, and somehow she knew they were smiling sadistically, even though they had no lips.  She heard them cackling with laughter as she put a hand over her stomach. 

She felt despair coursing through her veins; a deep sense of hopelessness filled her mind, her soul felt the pointlessness of trying to fight on… of even living.  And a huge surge of feelings and a deep need filled her whole being – she should kill herself. 

She stood, panting, tears in her eyes, hand on stomach, staring at the skeletons, who had ceased their attack, waiting to see if the blade had done its job.

And she did the one thing she had been trained her whole life to do – she fought. 

But this was unlike any fight she’d ever had; here the enemy was creeping within her, as well as starting to swing weapons at her again. 

She raised her hammer and swung it at the second ghostly skeleton, catching its axe and ramming it back through its own head.  Their weapons could be stopped by her weapon – but not by armour.

Magic.

“YOL!”  She knew fire worked against undead things-

The mist swirling around them ignited and became a fiery cloak, more dark mist emanating from their hearts to swirl through the flames.  The two sword wielding skeletons continued to fight, but now their swords were on fire.  The axe wielding ghostly skeleton struggled to get its axe out of its head, and Saadia was grateful for that. 

They came at her hard and fast and she blocked as fast as she could, dozens of quick moves in succession, first left, right up, protecting the shoulder, down, protecting the flank.  The skeletons worked in unison to unravel her, to make her leave herself open, pushing her around the room, always she was backing away…

And the axe hit her in the back, the third ghostly skeleton cackling manically as he swung his axe back around to get another hit in. 

She felt the burning of her fire on the axe, and it somehow tempered the new wave of despair.

Saadia began to weep helplessly, but she kept her warhammer raised. 

She realised that her fire had only made them stronger, and she simply couldn’t think of what to do to defeat them.  All she could hear in her mind was the screeching laughter of the ghostly skeletons. 

“They’re getting to you.”  She told herself, “Don’t let them in.”  She ordered herself, blocking the next axe blow as quick as ever. 

But they kept coming, swinging their weapons as if they were one entity, looking for a weakness, until first the axe and then a sword went right through her heart, their ghostly form filling her with dread and despair.  She started to sob.

“FEIM!”  She Shouted, hoping that becoming ethereal would grant her a reprieve from the third blow she knew she wouldn’t be able to block…

CLANG!  The sword smacked into her armour and she looked up at them with surprise… when she was ethereal, her armour worked – what did that mean for her weapon?

She roared as she came for them, lunging forward, tears streaking down her face; they blocked her weapon at first, but it was too heavy and she was too strong, and she pushed it right through the first sword wielding skeleton.  She saw a shot of bright white light in amongst its ribs and heard it screech in pain and outrage.  And now she was laughing manically, tears still dripping from her face. 

The ghostly skeleton seemed to implode in on itself; it’s fiery mist pulled into the white light her warhammer had put in its heart.  And it winked out of existence…

She turned to see the other 2 skeletons staring at the place the third one had been…

They both turned to flee, but she smashed her hammer through the axe wielder, not waiting to see it implode on itself as she went after the third ghostly skeleton.  But they moved fast, and it was ahead of her…

Then she remembered that she knew the first world of the Ice Form Shout… the undead were normally immune to ice… but then fire normally did them a lot of damage…

“LIZ!”  She Shouted, ice ripping from her lungs and chasing down the fleeing Skeleton.

The ice hit him in the back and he froze solid.

To Saadia it looked like he hovered there for a moment before suddenly, it simply dropped from the air, shattering when it hit the solid ground. 

She wept and looked up at the high ceiling of the room, feeling utterly alone, and totally without hope.

“It’s not real…”  She told herself that the despair was the ghostly skeleton’s main weapon – they got you to kill yourself in the end.  “It’s not real.”  She comforted herself and managed to get the panicked sense of pointlessness to calm, down. 

But still she wept almost uncontrollably as she continued on, her eyes swelling with tears.

She was glad that there were no more ghostly skeletons in the next room, she simply continued to spread the light, activating orbs, stepping through opening doors, one room after another.

At one altar, she put her fingers through the light – just to see what it felt like.

It sizzled like electricity, but her feelings of despair instantly lifted, a strange kind of warm numbness replacing it.  She didn’t feel like her old self; in fact she was still horribly weeping, but she had it under control now.  Now she believed herself when she told herself it wasn’t real, and was able to accept that she felt this way anyway, even though her mind logically knew there was no reason for it other than the skeleton’s particular type of poison.  She wondered how long it would last and feared it would be forever.  She couldn’t live forever like this!

“Get yourself under control…”  She whispered every time her mind started to run away on her. 

She came across some more shades and instantly made herself ethereal; she didn’t need any more of their despair in her heart. 

Now she knew how to defeat them, it was easy enough. 

The problem was that the overwhelming sense of dread and despair simply would not leave her unless they were momentarily taken over by some other equally intense emotion.  Her emotions were going haywire and it was hard to properly focus on the task at hand.

She was crying, kneeling in front of a gate, picking the lock.

“Why do they have to put all this treasure behind locked gates?”  She wept, having to stop constantly to wipe her eyes, her nose, to steady her hands from the body-wracking sobs.  “This is ridiculous!” 

Now she was laughing because for some reason, the idea that becoming ethereal allowed her to beat the ghostly skeletons was absolutely hilarious to her, and she giggled wildly like a child. 

Now a deep well of despair and terror was rooting her to the spot and she had to force every step forward, her determination to finish this damn thing was barely holding her to task. 

Putting her fingers in the light streaming from Meridia’s orbs would alleviate her emotions for a while, but they would always creep back and start to strangle her from the inside. 

Eventually the light led her to a balcony, overlooking the valley below, although the view was blotted out with snow. 

“So cold…”  She complained as she looked at the huge stone pillars, each with an orb floating above it – the light bouncing from one to the next, to the next, guiding her up some stairs to another door.  “M’aiq was right!  There’s too much snow in Skyrim!”  She said in awe of the old cat’s brilliance, and then she started to cry, “Maybe he’s right about everything?”  She cried harder still when she realised that she couldn’t remember everything he had said.  The snow was making despair grip at her heart again, so she hurried up the stairs, crying at the snow flurrying around her in gorgeous patterns; because it was so beautiful, and she was so wrong to hate the snow like she had a few moments ago. 

The first thing she saw when she opened the door at the top of the stairs was a second door, with a dead body in front of it, it had obviously been impaled in several places.  As she got closer to the door, she saw small holes in the floor; a trap.  She looked at the door; if she opened it, spears would shoot up from the floor. 

“Why are ancient Nords like this?”  Her voice hitched with tears.  She leaned over the holes and opened the door, hoping the spikes were relatively short…

The tips of the spikes clanged against her armour, one of them catching her inner elbow where the armour was thinnest to allow for movement.  She looked at the tiny trickle of blood and started to cry.

“I’m so bad at all of this…”  She cried as the door swung open, “Why do I even try?”  She sniffed hard, not caring that she was making a lot of noise, “Dragonborn my arse!”  She said as the spikes slid back into the floor.  “There’s so much treasure!”  She cried loudly as she shoved the gold and gems, armour, weapons and scrolls of strange spells into her satchel.  “Why am I crying so much?”  She sobbed and sat down on the top of a now empty chest.  “I’m such a fool.”  She snivelled, “I think no one must actually like me…”  She said in sudden realisation, “They only put up with me because they think I’m the Dragonborn.”  She cried and then suddenly shook her head.  “Saadia this is ridiculous!”  She told herself trying to get herself under control again.  “What is this?”  She asked, fully realising just how much the magic of the ghostly skeletons had affected her.  “I won’t let this place beat me.”  She stood up, gritting her teeth. 

She continued on, refusing to give in to despair.  But it was the hardest fight she’d ever had; sitting alone in that room, crying, the darkness of mood overcoming her… She had heard people lived with this for extended periods – months years… even their whole lives.  She didn’t know how they did it, but she could not doubt the courage of their hearts, the bravery of their souls; to face life when your own mind and emotions had turned on you, when you had to fight yourself just to walk a few steps. 

She was walking down a corridor when she saw the most haphazardly put together trap she’d ever seen.  A giant tree log hanging from the roof and a rope tripwire across the hallway at shin height.  Only a very unobservant and deeply inexperienced, fool of a person could possibly miss this trap. 

She started to giggle, her emotions see-sawing wildly, practically giving her mental whiplash. 

Saadia set the trap off deliberately; just for giggles.  She dropped to the floor as the log swung from the roof to hit whoever set off the tripwire, practically rolling on the floor in hysterics as the log whooshed back into place – its job done. 

She laughed till her sides hurt, tears streaming down her face, and gasping for breath.  

“Oh get it together woman!”  She tried to be serious and started laughing again.  She got to her feet, leaning against the wall and stumbled down the hallway, carrying her warhammer in one hand, trying to focus.

This was how this place killed you – she understood that.  But she couldn’t keep it together.  The poison of the ghostly skeletons was still raging through her innards. 

The hallway opened up to a vast room, with beacons on the tops of stone pillars, high above the room, in 2 tiers of height – very narrow stone bridges connecting them, wooden ramps leading up to both levels. 

She started to giggle again.

“I’m going to die in here!”  She started to roar with laughter.   “I’m going to fall off those bridges and SPLAT!”  She saw that some of the bridges had cages around them.  “Safety cages!”  She giggled, “I’ll just be caged in with the ghosty ghosts instead of falling.”  She laughed. 

Her laughter attracted several ghostly skeletons and she laughed as she became ethereal and hacked at them, Shouting ice at them.  She laughed uproariously when each one died, her ribs aching with mirth, her ability to fight severely compromised. 

Nonetheless she killed them all and continued up the ramp.  It was rickety and creaked and groaned… and Saadia kept laughing.  Until she got to the first bridge.  Then terror swept through her, she dropped to her knees, gripping the floor of the bridge, her body shaking with fear. 

“Ok Saadia.”  She whispered to herself, “You’ve crossed bridges like this before… with swinging axes.  This has no axes… it’s not even that high… you can do this…”  She talked herself through it, one tiny crawling motion at a time.

In this way, she eventually got herself to an altar and activated it, the light tingling through her fingers, giving her warmth and blessed numbness. 

She stood up on shaky legs and walked to the next beacon, getting more warmth from the light, and then up the ramp to the next one.  She felt considerably better by the time she made it back down to the ground floor.  She took a deep breath, her face feeling taught and tired from all the tears, the crying, the laughter… She turned towards the door that had opened and walked through it resolutely. 

Stairs that led down to the catacombs; the catacombs were not much different to the upper parts of the temple, except that the mist down here was thicker, ranker, and the despair hit her heart harder than ever.

But Saadia knew she had been poisoned.  She understood, and she managed to keep her feet, even though every fibre in her being wanted to collapse into a heap of misery. 

It was only a few empty rooms before she found Malkoran, standing before an altar with a sword on it, the sword glowed with intensity, and he was muttering a spell of some sort, his hand on it, his back to the door.  There were dozens of ghostly skeletons in the room, and hundreds of desecrated bodies, all of them had obviously been sexually desecrated as well, she curled her lip in disgust.  And finally she had an emotion that overrode her despair – absolute disgust for this Human being. 

She knew that it would be almost impossible to kill all of these ghostly skeletons and Malkoran without some sort of help.  There were too many of them, and she knew how the ghosts worked together, and how her skill was compromised at the moment. 

She remembered that she had some spell scrolls in her satchel and pulled them out as quietly as she could, reading them carefully.

And then she found the one she wanted – an elemental explosion.  Yes, it had fire, but it also had ice, electricity and poison, and it exploded out causing concussive damage.  All she had to do was read this scroll out loud and the spell would be cast…

She creeped into the room, getting as close to the ghosts as she could and then started to mutter the spell.

The ghostly skeletons closest to her turned to her and raised their weapons, shrieking loudly.  The other ghosts turned as Saadia finished the spell.

A massive explosion, erupted outwards from Saadia in all directions sending everyone flying except for her, dead bodies piling on top of the ghostly skeletons.  Electricity crackled through the air and several skeletons jolted with it, ice froze others, poison slowed others and unfortunately, fire strengthened some others.  

But over half of the skeleton ghosts were killed in the explosion, and all the others were injured, even the ones that had been strengthened by the fire had injuries from the concussive force of the explosion. 

She saw Malkoran stagger to his feet, casting a healing spell on himself as he did.  The skeletons were up and rushing towards her, weapons ready. 

“FEIM!”  Saadia Shouted and begun swinging her warhammer at every skeleton that got close to her.  She hit several, and the others learned to duck and weave out of her range, their weapons clanging uselessly against her armour. 

And Malkoran cast brutal ice spells, stronger than any other she’d experienced; they slowed her considerably, burning her skin with frost, and sapped her will to live – even though she was ethereal. 

Her body became corporeal again, and she hadn’t been expecting it.  Whether it was from Malkoran’s spell, or just that the effects of her Shout had a timer on them, she didn’t know.  But several swords went straight through her before she had chance to Shout again. 

She collapsed onto the floor, weeping, swords clanging down on her, the shrieking laughter filling her ears, Malkoran barking orders at his dead servants. 

“FINISH HER!”  He yelled gleefully, “And I’ll have her for my experiments!”  He laughed ecstatically.  “Fresh meat!”

Saadia felt the despair deep in her body, her mind fetid with misery… and then she looked up into the face of Malkoran, laughing triumphantly.  A Breton mage, with reddish brown hair and beard and brown eyes.

And disgust filled her again… and then rage. 

Pure unadulterated rage. 

“FUS RO DAH!”  He went flying across the room, his ghostly skeletons slamming into the walls next to him.  She jumped to her feet and sprinted across the room hacking at the evil mage until he was dead – giving him no chance to ever regain his feet.  Blood glistened on her golden warhammer, splatting in long arcs up the wall every time she raised it above her head, to bring it crashing back down.  When he was dead, she felt an immense sense of satisfaction. 

“FEIM!”  She attacked the remaining ghosts, killing them, her back to Malkoran’s body, her rage overtaking her mind. 

When they were all dead she laughed triumphantly, her body becoming corporeal again as she did. 

And then a powerful fireball hit her back, blasting her forward, face forward to the floor. 

She turned to see a ghostly skeleton, dripping with blood; it had ripped itself free from Malkoran’s body. 

This was Malkoran’s ghost; corrupted by his vile magic. 

“Are you serious?”  She yelled angrily at the ghost.  It simply shot another blast of fire at her, and she rolled away.  “LIZ!”  She Shouted at the ghost and it semi froze, partially resistant to her ice Shout.  “Gods damn you!”  She ran forward and hacked at the ghost, her hammer hitting it brutally hard; it was not the same as the other ghostly skeletons. 

It was stronger. 

It grabbed her throat with its icy fingers and threw her across the room. 

She hit the ground with a grunt, despair beginning to creep over her heart again.  But she got to her feet, her warhammer ready, and faced Malkoran’s ghost. 

They glared at each other across the room.  And he shrieked, the sound shrill in her ears, making her mind go into a frenzy; she knew how the voices of these foul creatures affected the living.

She squared her jaw, straightened her back and took a deep breath.

“You can’t kill me.”  She told the ghost.  “I’m blessed by the Gods.” 

He laughed. 

“The Gods don’t live here.”  He mocked.

“FUS RO DAH!”  She shouted and he slammed into the wall.  She ran and hit him with her hammer, smashing his bones to pieces.  “Fell for the same thing twice.”  She shook her head at the broken apart skeleton, the red glow in its eyes fading.  She watched it die, feeling that misery enter her very bones again. 

“It is done!”  It was Meridia speaking and the despair in Saadia’s heart instantly lifted.  She felt a giddy happiness.  “The defiler is defeated.  Take Dawnbreaker from the pedestal.”  The Daedric Lord commanded her.  And Saadia found herself gladly obeying, putting her warhammer on her back in its holder. 

She went to the defiled altar and took the beautiful rose gold sword.  The hilt had a shining gem, shining as bright as any of Meridia’s beacons; the sword, interacting with the ghosts’ poison, filled her with a wild, almost lunatic happiness. 

Malkoran had been drawing from this sword’s incredible power to raise the dead.  She could feel the flames in it – this sword had its own personality, its own will.  It hated the undead and would burn them ferociously.

And suddenly the earth fell out from beneath her feet and the wind was rushing past her body again.  She held her arms out, enjoying the rush of the upward flight, giggling happily. 

“Malkoran is vanquished and Skyrim’s dead shall remain at rest.  This is as it should be.”  Meridia said, “This is because of you.”  Saadia felt a deep gratitude to this Daedra for acknowledging her hard work, her brain screeching from one emotion to the next.  “A new day is dawning - and you shall be its herald.  Take the mighty Dawnbreaker, and with it purge corruption from the dark corners of the world.  Wield it in my name, that my influence may grow stronger.”  Meridia commanded.

“I’ll wield this mighty blade in your name!”  Saadia agreed readily. 

“May the light of certitude guide your efforts.”  Meridia answered, obviously pleased. 

Saadia landed back in front of the altar and the huge statue, the beacon now laying atop the outstretched women’s arms, the other beacons of the temple all lit up, glowing out into the darkness, beckoning worshippers in. 

She looked at the sword again, it was stunningly beautiful, but she could not wield it - it was one-handed.

Saadia began to cry again, her brain starting to feel dangerously fuzzy.  Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew she had to get back home – she had to find Arcadia, Danica, or even Vilkas.  Someone who might know how to heal her of this poison.  She put Dawnbreaker in her satchel and ran towards home, sprinting as fast as she could, weeping loudly.

“Bloody Daedra.”  She coughed with tears. 

She had been in deep despair, sure she would never make it home, the darkness of the night closing in all around her… when finally she saw a guard carrying a torch. 

She didn’t know what had kept her running; it felt like her despair was all that existed.  But the dawn was breaking as she ran through the farms outside Whiterun – she was so close now. 

And then she saw him.

She couldn’t remember why she had to see him, only that she had to.  And she was simply ecstatic to see him. 

She ran to him and flung herself at him.

“What-?”  Vilkas was stunned but caught Saadia nonetheless, his quick reflexes kicking in.  She wrapped her legs around his waist, while he stared at her in disbelief. 

Farkas, who had been standing next to his brother, both of them on their way to rescue an abducted child from the Forsworn in Markarth Hold, known as the Reach, looked on with equal disbelief. 

“I’m so glad to see you!”  She declared happily.  She hugged him tightly, her head nuzzling into his neck, Vilkas letting go of her and holding his hands out, looking at his brother over her shoulder, her grip on him with her thighs and legs holding her up.  “Hmmm.”  She said lustily, “You smell so good.”  She let her legs drop and turned to look at Farkas.  She grinned lustfully and put a hand on his chest, the other hand on Vilkas’s chest.  “You’re both so pretty!”  She said loudly. 

Vilkas saw a stable-hand stop feeding the horses and stare at them. 

Saadia kissed Farkas deeply, the surprised man returning the kiss.  But her hand was still on Vilkas’s chest, her fingers curling into the top of his armour, pulling him closer. 

“We three should fuck, don’t you think?”  She asked before trying to kiss Vilkas.  Farkas’s eyes opened wide in surprise, but Vilkas jerked his head to the side, avoiding her kiss, so she kissed his neck.  She felt a shiver go through him before he grabbed her upper arms and pulled her away.

“Stop that!  What are you doing?”  He asked, half angry, half too surprised to even know what to feel.

“Don’t you want me?”  She asked and suddenly she was crying.

“What is going on?’  Farkas mumbled, utterly bewildered. 

“You are trying to get me to have a threesome with my brother in front of Whiterun stables!”  Vilkas retorted.  Saadia sniffed hard, her innards churning in all sorts of emotional directions.

“You’re right.”  She squeaked pitifully.  “You’re always right.”  She turned away, and a rage over came her.  “YOU’RE ALWAYS RIGHT!”  She shouted at punched him hard in the face.

“Woah!”  Farkas said and grabbed her by the arms as Vilkas stumbled back, completely taken aback.  “What is going on with you?”

“I don’t know!”  She shrugged and started to giggle.  “I just had to see Vilkas… I don’t… I can’t…”  Her brain was fuzzy and she started to spin on the spot, laughing loudly.

“Is she drunk?”  Vilkas asked, putting the back of his hand to his mouth, wiping away the blood from his split lip. 

“I have no idea.”  Farkas said as he guided her to the steps of the stable-hand housing. 

“You’re both so pretty.”  She said, desperately horny again, “Twins…”  She laughed again. 

“Bring me light!”  Farkas yelled to the stable hand watching them; the early morning light was not bright enough yet for him to get a proper look at her.  The stable hand brought over a lantern and Farkas looked at Saadia closely, while Vilkas kept his distance. 

And he saw it immediately; a black smoky haze, wisping around in her eyes. 

“Vilkas…”  He said, a deep fear gripping him; this was magic of some sort, and like most Nords, Farkas deeply mistrusted magic. 

Vilkas came closer and looked at Saadia, seeing her eyes immediately in the flickering lantern light. 

“Corrupted Shade…”  He mumbled shaking his head.

“What?”

“She’s been poisoned by a Corrupted Shade.”  He handed the lantern back to the table hand and dismissed him with a wave of his hand. 

“A what?”

“Farkas this is fatal if it’s left too long, we have to get her back to Jorrvaskr, I’ve got some herbs there that’ll-”

“JORRVASKR!”  Saadia roared loudly and jumped up.

“No you don’t.”  Vilkas said pulling her by the wrist when she went to run off in the opposite direction to Jorrvaskr.  She instantly started to cry again.

“You’ve got to have some fun sometimes Vilkas!”  She said, “Don’t you like fun?” 

“Why do you have the herbs?  How do you know about these things?”  Farkas asked, holding Saadia’s arms so she wouldn’t run off again. 

“We’ve dealt with them before.”  Vilkas said.

“We have?”  Farkas asked.

“You just don’t remember.”  Vilkas said.  “Come on.”

“We can’t leave that kid with the Forsworn.”  Farkas said.

“You can’t go alone.”  Vilkas countered. 

“I can handle it.”

Saadia began to spin on the spot again, and the brothers let her do that.

“The Forsworn are brutal warriors, brother.”  Vilkas said, “We never go up against them alone.”

“I can handle it!”  Farkas said, “Go save her life, and I’ll go get the kid.”

“Farkas…”  Vilkas said softly.

“If it gets hard, I can turn, then kill them.”  Farkas shrugged.

Saadia fell to the floor with dizziness, the both looked at her and then returned their attention to the matter at hand. 

“It’s better not to turn.”  Vilkas said softly. 

“I know.”  Farkas answered, “I know what you and Kodlak want of me.  But if I need to turn, I will.” 

“Don’t die out there.”  Vilkas said and Farkas gave him a reassuring smile.

“I’ll be fine.  Go save her, we both know she’s more important.”

“Farkas…”  Vilkas said, stunned his brother would say that.  “You are my brother; I would not see you die to save her.”

“She’s the Dragonborn Vilkas.”  Farkas said simply as Saadia rolled around on the floor giggling about the size of ants. 

“They’re so little!”  She said hyperventilating with laughter. 

“If you die, she’ll never forgive me for letting you go.”  Vilkas said, “Or you for going!” 

“I’ll be fine!”  Farkas chuckled. 

Vilkas watched him run off, fear for him in the pit of his stomach, but knowing he couldn’t order his brother to stay; not when there was a kid out there that needed them.  Farkas might obey a command like that – he almost always did what he was told.  But they’d never forgive themselves for abandoning the child to the Forsworn and their evil rituals. 

“There was a skeleton thing!”  Saadia suddenly blurted out, looking at Vilkas with great urgency.  “And EYES!!”  She looked around, “Where did Farkas go…?”  She turned back to Vilkas, “Let’s fuck; you’re so sexy.”

“On your feet, new blood.”  Vilkas said, pulling her to her feet. 

“There was um…”  She tried to break through the fog of her brain, “They had mist… like half skeleton, half ghost… and… and…”

“I know, it’s okay.”  He told her, trying to guide her back to the city. 

“I don’t want to!”  She suddenly stopped walking and stomped her foot.  Vilkas sighed and looked skyward for a moment.

“Alright.”  He said and lifted her up over his shoulder.

“NO!”  She screeched at him, “PUT M-” Vilkas gasped in surprise as Saadia stopped yelling at him.  “You’ve got a really nice arse!”  She said, gripping it tightly. 

Vilkas’s mouth was opened in surprise, but he shook his head, and just left her to it – it kept her quiet while he carried her back to Jorrvaskr.  He decided to take the quieter back streets; they didn’t need the whole of Whiterun seeing her like this. 

By the time they’d gotten to Jorrvaskr, she was cooperating and walking beside him, looking around like she had never been here before.

“I know this place…”  She blinked and squinted her eyes. 

“Come on, new blood.”  He guided her inside, waving off everyone who came to talk to them and led her downstairs to his room.

She dived onto his bed and giggled.

“Now this is more like it.”  She said, unlacing her armour.  “Join me?”  She asked in a seductive voice, continuing to undress.

But Vilkas left her to it and opened up an old chest he rarely went in to, and started going through it. 

She got down to her tunic before she started crying again.  She slid off the bed and put her cheek on Vilkas’s foot.

“What?”  He sighed.

“I just can’t stand the idea of you hating me.”  She whispered tearfully.

“It’s just the poison talking.”  He told her, “I’m sure you’ll go back to not caring about that kind of thing when you’ve had these herbs.”  He went back to sorting through the chest.

“No.”  She said simply, “I don’t know why, but our friendship means so much to me.” 

“Uh huh.”  Vilkas found the dried herbs and took them out, smelling them gingerly.

“You mean so much to me Vilkas.”  She whispered and sobbed uncontrollably.  “Do I mean anything to you?”  She said, gripping his leg.  He sighed internally and looked down at her.

“I just let my brother walk into a battle with the Forsworn alone, to save your life.”  He said sourly, “You mean plenty.”

“To you?”  She asked.

“Sure.”  He said and put some of the herbs in the mortar and pestle, grinding them up carefully, leaving Saadia on the floor, wrapped around his feet, and just reaching for the things he needed, without moving his feet. 

“It’s so dark and cold and lonely here.”  She whispered.  “It feels like Stirk again.  Like I’ll never know happiness or love or peace.”  Her voice wavered and her breath shuddered as she took in a breath, her eyes unfocussed, staring at the wall.  “I was surrounded by people I loved… but I couldn’t say if any one of them loved me.  We relied on each other, sure… but love?”  She whispered, Vilkas looking down at her.  “I want to know that the people I care about here, actually care about me.” 

“We do.”  Vilkas answered honestly. 

“There’s something inside of me Vilkas.”  She said, a deep fear in her eyes.  “It’s eating me from the inside… it’s killing me…”

“I know.”  He answered, “I got you.” 

“You got m-” Her breath hitched, but her voice was filled with so much gratitude.  “I’m safe?”

“You’re safe.”  He promised. 

She lay back on the floor, looking up at the ceiling.

“I feel like I’m losing my mind.”  She said, “Sometimes I can’t control what… and I can’t remember any… and…”  She stopped, her mouth open, staring up, tears dripping from her eyes. 

Vilkas put the herbs into a tankard and grabbed some wine, pouring it into the tankard and mixing it up with his finger. 

“Alright Dovahkiin.”  He said, kneeling down beside her, and helping her sit up, “Drink this.”

“Will it end all of this?”  She whispered.

“Yes.”

“So I’ll die, and know peace?”

Their eyes met and Vilkas saw a deep pain and fear in her eyes. 

“I’m not going to let you die.”  He said firmly, “But this will heal the poison in you.  So you’ll know whatever peace you’ve always known… if you’ve ever known any.” 

She stared at him for a long time, and Vilkas was worried he’d have to force her to drink it.  But she nodded and took it, drinking it in one long gulp.

She flopped back on the floor and Vilkas got his empty water bucket and put it next to her; knowing exactly what was about to happen.

She vomited spectacularly.  For about 30 minutes.  A fetid black bile, tinged with vibrant red. 

Vilkas held the bucket for her and told her it was alright every time she apologised. 

Eventually she stopped, and sat, pale and washed out, her back against his bed, her hands limp in her lap. 

Vilkas put the bucket outside his door and poured her some water. 

“Here you go.”  He said and grabbed a piece of bread from his table.  “Try to eat a little bit.  It’ll make you feel a bit better.” 

“Thank you.”  She said, hardly able to move from the exhaustion. 

“How did you get yourself into this?”  He asked and sat down on the floor beside her, his back against his bed. 

“I was clearing the temple of Meridia.”  She answered.

“Messing with Daedric Lords again?”  He shook his head.

“I had to get rid of her beacon, it was driving me mad.”  Saadia said and then chuckled, “But not as mad as those shade things.”

“Corrupted Shades.”  Vilkas answered. 

“How did you know what to do?” 

“The necromancer that took my brother and I had Corrupted Shades.  He used to delight in getting them to poison Farkas; Farkas’s suffering made him laugh so.  And I could do nothing to stop him.  I watched him heal and then re-poison Farkas many times.”  He said bitterly, “I sometimes wonder if that’s why he doesn’t remember any of it.”  Vilkas said. 

“That’s why you’re so protective of him now…”  Saadia understood, “And you feel guilty that he didn’t do it to you instead of Farkas.”  Saadia said astutely and Vilkas pursed his lips and looked away.  “He did other things to you though.”  Saadia understood his silence. 

“You know, he wanted Farkas and I to follow in his footsteps.”  He said softly and turned to look at her again.  He held out his hand and frost gently wafted from his fingers, making a small ball of snow, floating above his palm.  “I still remember some of the magic he taught us.  His teaching method was infinitely more brutal than anything I ever experienced here...”  He closed his fingers over the snowball, crushing it.  “It’s why I hate magic so much.”

“I didn’t know you hated it more than the usual Nord mistrust for magic.”  She answered and he shrugged.  “Well I don’t blame you for hating it.  Whatever those shades did to me was…”  She shook her head, “I can’t explain it.”

“You don’t have to.”  He answered, “I did get the joy of experiencing a Corrupted Shade’s poison when I was 17.”  He explained. 

“So you know what I was going through.”  Saadia nodded.

“I didn’t know I looked quite that crazy.”  He teased and she groaned and put her face in her hands, “But I do know what it feels like, Dragonborn.” 

“How did you get poisoned by them?”

“Aela and I had tracked down the necromancer to a cave near Dawnstar.  He had about 50 Corrupted Shades, and they are very hard to fight.”

“Oh I know.”  Saadia agreed.

“Their blades went right through me.”  Saadia nodded as he explained his experience, “Luckily, I had some herbs on me that I had taken from the Necromancer when Jergen came for us, and Aela prepared them for me while I went completely mad.” 

“Why didn’t you take Farkas with you?”

“He remembers nothing of it.”  Vilkas said, “I worried that seeing that man again would… remind him.”

“You wanted to let him keep the gift of forgetting it.”  Saadia whispered, “You are a good brother.”  Vilkas shrugged uncomfortably.  “Did you kill the necromancer?”

“No he got away.”  Vilkas said, “Aela and I were too inexperienced back then to get the job done.  And while she shares my passion for vengeance, and we’ve both kept looking for him; we’ve never found him again.”  He told her bitterly, “We’ve found other necromancers, and I am happy to kill them in his place… but I dearly want to cut that man to pieces.” 

“I want to help with your revenge.”  Saadia told him, “That necromancer I killed was wholly evil, if your abductor was anything like him…”  She shuddered, “Tell me about him, so if I hear about him, or see him in my travels, I can let you know.”

“His name is Malkoran.”  Vilkas said, “He’s-”

“He’s dead.”  She said softly and Vilkas turned his face to her.  Saadia thought of all she’d seen in that temple.  “I can only imagine what he did to you and Farkas.”

“It’s best you don’t.”  He said softly.  She took his hand and she felt him stiffen slightly.  But he looked at her, his fingers curling slightly around hers.

“I know you’re not the kind of man to talk about that kind of thing.”  She said softly, “But if you want to talk, I’ll listen.”  She held his gaze for a moment, “At any time you need me…”  He looked away again, gently removing his hand from hers.

“You’re right.  I don’t talk about it.”  He said stiffly. 

“I’m so sorry to have denied you your revenge.”  She whispered.

“He was in Meridia’s temple?”  He asked and she nodded, “I never would have looked for him in a Daedric temple.”  Vilkas said honestly, “I should thank you for killing him.” 

But Saadia could see the regret in his eyes that he hadn’t gotten to kill Malkoran.

“He died painfully; beaten to death.”  Saadia said and saw a look of satisfaction in his eyes.  “Twice.”  She added, “After falling for the same tactic as a man, and as a ghost.” 

“Good.”  He said and nodded. 

They sat in silence for a while, Saadia eating the bread and Vilkas taking in the death of Malkoran. 

And Saadia groaned in embarrassment as snippets of the past few hours started to come back to her.

“Did I proposition you for sex?”  She asked.

“A couple of times.”  Vilkas said, clearly amused.

“Oh…”  She groaned and put her face in her hands and put her head in her lap.  Vilkas laughed. 

“I’m almost certain I didn’t say that kind of thing to Aela when I was poisoned; she’d have cut my dick off if I had.”  He teased. 

“Oh… I’m so sorry.”  She said, mortified. 

“It’s alright, I’ve had worse things happen.”  He answered with a shrug.  “But the look on Farkas’s face…”  He teased.

“Oh Gods.”  Saadia groaned.  “I tried to get you both into a threesome.”  Vilkas started to laugh again. 

“It’s alright.”  He gave her some mercy, “I know that everything you said wasn’t you.”  He said.

“Well no, some of it was.”  She said seriously, turning to him.  “You do smell nice.”  She said seriously and then broke out into laughter.

“I’m not sure you’d say that if you had the Beastblood.”  He chuckled.

“Strong sense of smell?”  She asked.

“I can taste the blood pumping in your heart.”  He said and Saadia tilted her head to the side, considering what that must be like.  “I can smell when you’re on the blood.”  He said and laughed as soon as he saw her expression; it was the look he’d been hoping for.

“What?”  She asked, embarrassed and impressed.  “Explains Farkas’s preternatural ability to know when it is.”  She said shaking her head.

“And he’d be able to smell when you’re at your most fertile too.”  Vilkas said, “He’d be very eager and enthusiastic at those times.”  He said seeing the look of realisation in her eyes; Farkas did seem to sync up with her cycles.

“What?”  She was taken aback.

“You have to understand; Farkas isn’t trying to impregnate you.  We can all smell the deathbell on you… The man Farkas doesn’t want to sire a child… but you best believe the wolf does.”  He sighed, “it’s a struggle, fighting against the urge to hunt and breed, hunt and breed, hunt and breed.”  He sighed, “That’s the life of a feral; hunting and breeding... and keeping their territories.” 

“No secrets then.”  Saadia said, slightly uncomfortably.

“It doesn’t work quite that easily.”  He said, “You have to know what you’re smelling.  I didn’t know that most women bled when I first smelled it on Aela.”  He said.  “She was unimpressed when I asked her why she was bleeding and if she was alright.”

“I bet she was!”  Saadia laughed. 

“I learned quick enough.”  He agreed.  “And we can miss things if our mind is focussed elsewhere.”  He continued, “We don’t just have all-knowing noses!”  His eyes twinkled with mirth, “And we all try not to smell each other.”  He said, “We work hard at not tasting, hearing, seeing…”  He said, “We all like our privacy.” 

“He must know everything about me though.”  Saadia said, wondering if Farkas could smell when she had a bladder infection. 

“My smell’s better than his.”  Vilkas said trying to reassure her, “But his eyes are better.” 

“The Beastblood affects everyone differently.”  She was deeply curious about all of this. 

“It does.”  Vilkas answered and Saadia could see how much he enjoyed talking about this; even though he was conflicted about his enjoyment, and having the Beastblood, and even the boons of this gift… or curse.  

“I can’t help but wonder how it would affect me.”  Saadia said, catching his enjoyment.

“No.”  He was suddenly serious.  “Don’t wonder that.”

“Would it be that bad if I had the Beastbl-?”

“Yes.”  He cut her off.  “It would.”  There was an uncomfortable silence while she looked away, not sure what to make of his vehemence.  “What else wasn’t a lie?”  He asked, changing the topic, “You know, in all your poisoned ramblings.”

“Our friendship does mean a lot to me.”  She said without looking at him.  But she turned to look at him in the silence that followed and their eyes met.

Vilkas chuckled slightly.

“Of course; who else will keep patching you up after you nearly get yourself killed again?”  He asked.  But he saw the look in her eyes as she looked down.  Even though she had smiled at his joke, she had wanted something more from him.  He remembered what she’d said about wanting to know that the people she cared for, cared for her.  “Likewise.”  He said slightly stiffly, but honestly.  She looked back up at him.  “We do care about you, new blood.” 

“You never say my name.”  She said softly and he cleared his throat and looked down. 

“I don’t say any of the whelp’s names.”  He said stiffly.  “It’s an old trick of Skjor’s; don’t let the whelps know you’re impressed with them, you don’t want them to get cocky.” 

“You’ve talked to me about all of them.”  Saadia said, “And said their names.”

“To you, not to them.”  Vilkas said.

“You’re not a very good liar.”  She said softly and got up.  “Not now that I know what to look for.” 

“Wait…”  He said but she turned to his door.  He grabbed her hand and she looked back at him.  “I do care about you; you are my Shield-sister.”  He said firmly. 

She stared at him for a moment and then gave him a weak smile.

“Thank you for saving my life again Shield-brother.”  She said, “I hope one day I can repay you.”  She turned away and he let her hand drop, she headed to his door.  “I have to see my daughter.”

“Of course.”  He nodded.

“Bye.”  She said as she opened the door.

“Bye.”  He said as she closed the door.  “Saadia.”  He said to the closed door. 

 

 


	15. Part 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm still sick this week - dr's say it could be another month! But i should be able to keep up the updates now. i hope you enjoyed the last part even though it was late!
> 
> I LOVE YOUR COMMENTS. although i'm a little too sick to reply to everything right now - i am reading them! THANK YOU!!
> 
> The songs Llewellyn sings (with some changes by me to make them fit): 'Foy Porter' by Machaut Virelai (English translation), ‘Ballade de Marguerite (Normande)’ by Oscar Wilde, ‘Landlord Fill the Flowing Bowl’ (last couple of verses are mine), ‘The Captain’s Wife Lament’, and I can’t remember the name of the last one. Eek. I made up ride below the crupper – not the saying, the little song, Watkin’s ale is also a ye olde time phrase.

 

Saadia awoke with a start.

Lucia was asleep beside her; she had fallen asleep in her daughter’s bed, the book she had been reading her still open on her lap. 

“The Word Wall…”  She whispered.  She had been meaning to go and get it after clearing Meridia’s temple, but the Corrupted Shade poison had made her forget.

She carefully got out of Lucia’s bed and headed up to her own room to put her armour back on.

It was still dark, but she headed out to the temple.  She had spent all day with Lucia, and slept solidly last night, so even though she was still not 100% better, she was feeling alright, and ready for action. 

The Word Wall was literally in sight of the temple, and she learned the word greedily.  She could tell that the Word was Su.  It meant air… this was the Elemental Fury Shout – a new Shout.  Her understanding of Dragon language and Shouts was improving.  But frustratingly, she still needed a Dragon soul to empower the Word. 

She headed further up the mountain, hoping there was a Dragon nest up there.

She found a burned out cottage with a few bandits camping in it and a Guardian Stone nearby. 

She walked up to it and saw a horse etched onto its side.

“The Steed Stone.”  She remembered Rayya talking about it.  She decided to touch the stone, even though she knew she could have only one Guardian Stone; she could always go back to the Warrior Stone and touch it again if she hated it.

As soon as she touched it she could no longer feel the weight of her armour, and everything she was carrying seemed to become instantly lighter. 

“Oh I like this…”  She said, walking was much easier without the weight of her armour, and when she started to run, she could run as fast as she wanted – her armour didn’t weigh her down.

She swung her hammer; the hammer still weighed as much as it ever did, but armour didn’t impede her movement at all.  It made her movement a lot quicker, even though she had a heavy weapon.

She decided to head home; she’d find a Dragon later, she wanted to see Farkas after he got home from rescuing the abducted child, which should be soon; if he wasn’t already back. 

 

***

 

But Vilkas, pacing the great hall of Jorrvaskr when she got back, told her that not only was Farkas not back, but he was overdue.

“I shouldn’t have let him go.”  He said angrily. 

“You had to.”  Skjor said shaking his head.  “He’ll come back alive.”

Saadia felt her heart drop; what if something had happened to him… it was her fault he went alone.  She felt a deep worry overcome her and she watched Vilkas pacing, fear settling over her.

“What if the Silver-Hand-”

“The Forsworn aren’t known for making alliances with anyone.”  Skjor answered calmly.  “And you know how they’d love a bit of Hircine in their lives.  Farkas is probably fucking half the maidens right now.”

“There’s a big difference between Hircine worship and fucking a hostile werewolf.”  Vilkas answered and Saadia saw the look on Skjor’s face; he was deliberately baiting Vilkas, taking his mind off his worry. 

But she knew that wouldn’t work.  Not for him, and not for her. 

“Come on.”  She said and he looked up at her.  Skjor looked at her with an impressed expression.  “Let’s go get him.”  Vilkas nodded.

“Yes.”  He said, heading towards the door.  She gave Skjor a nod and followed Vilkas. 

They set off at a run through Whiterun, but were stopped at the gates by Farkas himself.

“I’m glad to see you!”  Vilkas embraced Farkas, slapping his back hard.

“Brother.”  Farkas said, hugging him back, sounding a little confused.  He turned his eyes to Saadia. 

“You were late coming back.”  Saadia explained.

“Ah yes.”  Farkas said, “Endon had to throw me a party for saving his daughter.”  He said, “Lasted for a long time… I may have had sex with a couple of people…”

“Farkas.”  Vilkas said shaking his head and looking away.

“So I suppose you’re too tired for me?”  Saadia said with a teasing grin.

“I’m never too tired for you.”  He said and put an arm around her waist.  Vilkas sighed and looked away, heading back to Jorrvaskr.  “Just let me have a bite to eat, and a mead… and maybe you go on top at first…” He said cheekily.

“We have to talk first…”  She said, “About all that stuff at the stables…” 

“Oh I get it.  You were poisoned or something.”  He shrugged, “It’s all good.”

“You’re a good man.”  She said, lacing her arm around his waist, the two of them strolling back to Jorrvaskr, while Vilkas walked ahead of them, his pace quickening to leave them behind.  

“I try to be.”  He said, “I’m glad you think so.” 

“I do.”  Saadia confirmed, “So how was the battle?”

“Actually not too bad.  It was a small camp of 5.  No mages or Hagravens.  They were on their way to a larger camp further into the mountains.”

“Lucky.”

“Yeah.”

“Why’d they take the girl?”

“They wanted to do experiments on her… probably turn her into a Hagraven one day.”  Farkas said.  “That’s how the Forsworn are.” 

“I wonder when I’ll catch up with them.”  She said.

“Hopefully never.  In their usual camps no one can take them alone; there’s too many of them.”  Farkas said, “Unless they have the Beastblood.”

“Or Dragon Blood?”  She asked and he considered that for a moment.

“I suppose so.”  He said with a grin.  “I’d still feel better if you stopped going out there alone.”

“You go out there alone.”  She pointed out.

“Not always.” 

“I don’t always go out alone.”  She answered simply with a shrug. 

“But that poisoning…”  He said, not sure how to say what he wanted to say.

“Maybe you should come out with me when you can.”  She said, allaying his fears.

“I will.”  He answered, feeling a lot better. 

 

***

 

Saadia watched General Tullius heading up the stairs to Dragonsreach.  He was going to be disappointed; the Jarl was out hunting today.  Lydia had gone with him as part of his protective force.  She’d been requested especially for it by Irileth.  Saadia was under no obligation to loan Lydia to the Jarl, but Lydia had wanted to go; she needed some time away from the house and playing mother.  And Lucia would be safe in lessons for most of the day anyway.

“Thanks Carlotta.”  She said and bought the bag of apples, deciding to follow General Tullius.

He was standing talking to Proventus about when the Jarl was expected to return, when Saadia entered the castle, eating an apple. 

General Tullius looked at her and then back at Proventus. 

“Are your guards now giving free reign to anyone to wander through this castle?”  He asked, but before Proventus could answer Tullius turned to her.  “Do you have some reason to be here citizen?”  He asked her. 

“Just to talk to you.”  Saadia answered, “You know we’ve met before.”  She said. 

“Have we?”  He asked, seemingly amused, looking her up and down, “Oh yes…” He seemed to recognise her, “Of course.  You were at Helgen!”  Saadia was impressed he remembered her.  “One of the prisoners, if I remember correctly.”  His voice was icy now.  Dangerous.  His eyes narrowed.  The woman standing beside him turned her eyes from him to Saadia.  “Is there something I can do for you?  Perhaps direct you to the nearest prison?” 

“I’d like a pardon actually.”  She answered, “I helped Hadvar escape, so he can vouch for me.”  She remembered Hadvar saying she needed to get her pardon from General Tullius to make it official.  He scoffed.

“Hadvar’s alive?”  He asked, “He hasn’t reported in yet, so I can’t-”

“Actually Sir,” The woman beside him said softly, “Hadvar has been in contact with me.”

“So she’s telling the truth?”  General Tullius looked her up and down, “At least about Hadvar being alive.”  He crossed his arms, “Which I’m glad to hear; he’s a damn good soldier.” 

“He’s a damn good friend.”  Saadia replied and then looked at the woman, “I’m Saadia, he reported to you or someone else that we had uncovered a major bandit operation-”

“Yes he’s finding the deceased traders’ relatives.  I’m aware of his current whereabouts.”  She nodded, “I’m Legate Rikke.”  She introduced herself.  “So you’re Saadia… Thane of Whiterun, and Dragonborn.”  She stared at Saadia for a moment and General Tullius gave her a cocked eyebrow.

“Dragonborn?”  He asked.

“Hadvar saw her take a Dragon’s soul with his own eyes.”  She said. 

“Dragonborn.”  He said softly.  “I suspect we could use someone resourceful like you in the Legion.  Not many survived Helgen.”  He said pointedly. 

“I suspect that I would like my pardon.”  Saadia repeated.  He smiled, impressed by her gall.

“Yes, well I’m sure your being imprisoned was all a terrible misunderstanding.”  He turned to Rikke, “Legate, make sure this pardon is made official.”

“Yes sir.”  Rikke answered. 

“I have another matter to discuss with you.”  Saadia said, “I want you to release Thorald Grey-Mane.”

“I’ve heard that name a lot over the past year.”  He said sadly.  “I can’t do anything about it.  The Thalmor have him, and it’s in everyone’s best interests to drop it.”

“It’s not in his best interest.”

“It cannot be done.”  Tullius answered firmly.

“Sir…” Rikke said, “Perhaps we can try to write up the orders?  Perhaps…”  She spoke under her breath to him, but Saadia still heard what she said, “We want the Dragonborn on our side in this fight?”

“Perhaps we do.”  Tullius said, knowing full well that Saadia had heard what she’d said.  “And believe me, I don’t want any citizen of the Empire in those foul Thalmor hands… but we’ll just keep that between us.”  He intimidated.  “When the patriarch of Clan Battle-Born wrote numerous letters to anyone who would listen on behalf of Thorald… the Thalmor sent several agents to his house, to threaten his entire family.  Threatened the man to his face, in his own home.”  Tullius shook his head, “They want the matter dropped.  We’ll drop it.”  Saadia could see that those words were bitter to Tullius; he didn’t like it at all.  It seemed that no matter what side of the civil war people were on – they all hated and feared the Thalmor. 

Saadia knew she’d be meeting up with them eventually then.

“Guess I’ll have to take him by force then.”  She said simply and Tullius stared at her in silence for a moment.  She saw the look of respect on Rikke’s face, but Tullius was harder to read.  Eventually he spoke.

“I believe you just might do it.”  He said, “Might even survive it.”  He shook his head, even more surprised at Saadia’s gall now, “Free all the prisoners while you’re at it.”  He said softly, “But we’ll just keep that between us too.”

“And feel free to bloody their noses.”  Rikke said with a grin.  “But… I did not say that.  The empire has a peace agreement with the Aldmeri Dominion.”  She said stiffly.

“For now.”  Tullius said ominously. 

 

***

 

Saadia had sent word to Camilla a week ago, to expect her today in the morning, and that the whole Circle coming out for a feast that evening; to celebrate her new home.  Lucia and Lydia would arrive the next morning, with the rest of the Companions coming in the evening for a second feast. 

Camilla had written back expressing her excitement.

When Lakeview Manor came into view between the trees, she could see that the third storey had been completed, and that a Chimney had been added - smoke wafted up invitingly; the fires had been lit.  She saw a man up ahead; A spritely looking man, probably in his 40s.

“Hello Miss!”  He said as she got closer, bowing low. 

“Hi.”  Saadia answered with a grin, wondering who this man was. 

“You must be Miss Saadia!”  He said enthusiastically, “Miss Camilla told us to be keeping an eye out for you.”  He explained, “I’m Gunjar, your horse wrangler and carriage driver.”  He introduced himself.  “My daughter and me have taken up residence above your stables; she helps a bit with mucking them out and feeding them.”  He said with a grin, “Her name’s Svali, she’s 8.”

“I have a daughter who’s 8.”  Saadia answered, “I looked forward to them meeting and playing together.”  She noted and Gunjar nodded, clearly not expecting that.  “Let me guess, I did something that breaks with Nord tradition?”  She asked and he chuckled.

“Well it’s not common for higher-ups such as yourself to allow their children to associate with the lower-downs, like myself.”  He answered.

“Gunjar, I may be paying your wage, but don’t ever think of me as better than you.  Alright?”

“If you say so, Miss.”  He gave a slight bow.

“My name’s Saadia, Gunjar.”  She patted him on the arm.  “Please call me that.” 

“Alright.”  He answered, not sure if he believed it.  “Saadia…”  He said her name hesitantly. 

“And no more bowing.”  She said, “I don’t want Lucia to see that kind of thing and think she’s better than everyone just because she’s the daughter of a Thane.”  She said firmly and Gunjar nodded.

“As you wish Saadia.”  He nodded.

“And if you disagree with something, or I’m making a foolish mistake, or I’m just plain wrong; tell me.  I want to hear your opinion, especially in matters of your expertise.”  She noted and Gunjar chuckled uncomfortably.  “What is it?”

“Well the last Thane I worked for whipped me with his riding crop when I told him he’d get better behaviour from the horses if he didn’t whip them.”  He said.

“That won’t be happening here.”  Saadia said firmly.

“Miss- sorry, Saadia, I already knew this place was different when I saw you’re paying twice the usual wage to a lowly stable-keep than anywhere else in Skyrim.”  He answered.  “There was quite some competition for this position.”  He noted. 

“Then I know I got the best at his job.”  She answered, “And there’s nothing lowly about this position or you.  Without you and everyone who does your job, where would Skyrim be?”  She asked pointedly, “They would be without horses.” 

“Too true miss…” He groaned, “Sorry, Saadia.”  He chuckled slightly. 

“And if your daughter helps mucking out the stables, Lucia shall too.”  She noted, “If you don’t mind – you are the expert on such matters; will it upset the horses?”

“No it won’t.”  He answered with a respectful smile.  But it wasn’t a respect that came from their positions of power or wealth, it came from a position of knowing that this woman meant what she was saying. 

“Can I meet them?” 

“Of course!”  His eyes lit up and he accompanied her further down the road. 

There were 2 horses in the stables.

“This is a beautiful Friesian stallion.”  He said gently rubbing the nose of the black horse.  “He can carry a warrior in full armour and still jump a fence.”  He noted, “But he’s mostly being used to pull the carriage at the moment.  He likes that.”  He noted, scratching the horse behind the ears.  The horse had a powerful build, and long flowing tail and mane, kept in immaculate condition.  Thick, strong, legs, with tufts of hair above the hooves. 

“He’s beautiful.”

“You’ll get some coin studding him.”  Gunjar noted, “When Camilla asked me to pick the 2 finest horse we could afford… I did.”  He said with a grin, “This is a pure-bred horse.”  He said proudly, “A fine creature.”  He said affectionately. 

“Well I leave any studding matters up to you to sort out; just run it past Camilla.”  Saadia answered.

“Truly?”  He asked, absolutely stunned. 

“I’m willing to admit when I don’t know something.”  Saadia answered, “I know nothing about horses… Other than these 2 are beauties.”  She noted, “You’re the expert.  I trust you to do your job well; you obviously love the animals.”

“I do.”  He nodded. 

“What’s his name?”

“Well it’s up to you to name your horse.”  Gunjar laughed awkwardly.

“What have you been calling him?”

“Well my daughter’s been calling him Hector.”  He said, slightly embarrassed.

“A fine name.”  She answered, “If you like it.”

“It’s a fine name.”  He nodded. 

“And the other horse?”  She asked going over to the golden coloured horse. 

“That’s a Percheron mare.”  He said, “With a rare Palomino colouring.”  He said proudly, “She is beautiful.”  He sighed happily, “Percherons, either pure-bred or mixes, are the most common horse in Skyrim… they get called the Skyrim pony.”  He chuckled.  She was a big, solidly built horse; bigger than the stallion, but with a shorter mane and tail.  It seemed funny to call her a pony since Saadia thought they were often smaller than horses.  “I chose her as your main mount because she’s a as strong as Hector, but she can damn near climb up the side of a mountain!”  He said, impressed, “And she’s fearless!  On the way here from the stables at Windhelm, we came across a giant and three mammoths, crossing the road.  Hector reared up, wanting to get away.  But she stood her ground.  I think she would have fought them if she could.”  He said.  “Seemed like a good horse for an adventurer, such as yourself.”  He noted. 

“Indeed.”  Saadia agreed.  “And her name?”

“Agathe.”  Gunjar said, more confidently.  “My daughter named her too.” 

“You’ve chosen 2 fine animals.”  Saadia said.

“I can have either of them saddled, or hooked up to the carriage at any time.”  He told her, “You just let me know.”

“Thanks Gunjar.”  Saadia said, “I’m going to head into the home, you can come to the feast tomorrow if you like.”  She said, “Lucia and Svali should meet.”  She said, “Lucia will be terribly bored with all those adults around.”  She noted, making sure Gunjar knew that he and his daughter were very welcome.  “And may I ask, do you have a wife?”  She asked and Gunjar nodded slowly.

“She was the warrior of the family.”  He said softly.  “She went away to fight with the Imperials… I got news a few weeks ago that she was killed.”

“Oh Gunjar, I’m so sorry.”  Saadia said softly, putting her hand on his arm for comfort. 

“Now it’s just me and our little girl.  I have to do everything I can to look after her and raise her right, you know?”  He asked earnestly. 

“I do.”  Saadia answered honestly.  “You let me know if there is anything I can do to help you.”  She told him and he looked at her with wonder.

“I will.”  He said, completely surprised that one of the higher-ups would even offer.  “If you don’t mind, Miss… Saadia… is it true… what they say about you?”

“Depends what they’re saying.”  She answered. 

“That you’re… Dragonborn?”  His eyes were filled with wonder and excitement.

“It’s true.”  She said and he took a deep breath in. 

“It’s an honour to meet you.”  He said in a low voice.  “And thank you for all you’re doing for the people of Skyrim.” 

“Oh don’t thank me yet.”  She said, “Alduin isn’t dead yet.”  She gave him a nod and a farewell and headed up towards the homestead. 

She could see a cow in the side garden and started to chuckle; Camilla had been busy!

When she got to the house, she saw an Argonian man sweeping the front stoop diligently.  The sun shone of his deep green scales, and he flicked his reptilian tongue out as he worked; tasting the air.  He looked up at her, obviously having tasted her presence.  He had two large horns sticking out the top of his head, and three smaller ones on either side of his jaw, his snout was long and shapely, his eyes bright yellow. 

A very handsome Argonian.  Young and fit. 

He bowed deeply.

“Miss Saadia.”  He said as he straightened up, “I am Jee-Tah, your house servant and cook.” 

“It’s just Saadia.”  Saadia answered.

“As you wish, honoured land-strider.”  He noted, lowering his eyes in respect. 

“No need to bow or lower your eyes friend.”  She said. 

“As you wish.”  Jee-Tah nodded, “Would you care to see what I am preparing for tonight’s dinner and tomorrow night’s feast?”  He asked. 

“I would love to.  But first I need to see Camilla.  Is she inside?”  Saadia assumed she would be since Hadvar was still living in the cottage that was to become Camilla’s home when she and Faendal were married. 

“She is.”  Jee-Tah answered, “She finished interviews for bards yesterday, and is hiring someone right now.” 

“A bard?”  Saadia asked.

“She said that she knew how you loved bards.”  Jee-Tah noted, “So you should have one of your own.” 

“She’s a good woman that one.”  Saadia said with a grin and Jee-Tah nodded in agreement.

Saadia went in and saw a man shaking Camilla’s hand enthusiastically.

“I’m so glad!”  He was saying, “I thought because I was so young that I would have no chance at such a good position!” 

“Saadia!”  Camilla said, seeing her and freeing herself from the young man she came to hug her friend.  Saadia hugged Camilla tightly.

“You’ve done so much!”  She marvelled, looking around the house.  She could see the grand table in the main hall, the huge fireplace with pots for hot drinks on the stones in front of the fire.  Tables, weapon plaques, armour dummies, mounted elk heads and sabercat heads… She let Tarryn out of her pouch and the large cub sniffed around the house.

“She’s getting too big for that pouch.”  Camilla commented.

“But still too young to let out all the time.”  Saadia noted.  “And who’s this?”  She asked nodding towards the young man who was staring at her in awe. 

“I’m Llewellyn, known as the Nightingale!”  He answered and bowed deeply.  Saadia sighed softly and looked at Camilla.

“We’re going to have to talk about all this bowing.”  She said and Camilla nodded. 

“Your steward has procured my services for you.”  He said, “I am fully trained in all of the bardic traditions and can play many instruments, and know just about every song in Skyrim.” 

“Excellent, how about singing a bloody, bawdy tale for me?”  She asked, “So I can hear what you’ll be singing at the feast tomorrow tonight?” 

“Of course!”  He answered and bowed deeply.  Saadia again looked at Camilla and she nodded, acknowledging the silent request to talk to the servants about not bowing. 

Jee-Tah busied himself by the fire as Saadia sat down to watch Llewellyn sing; she’d look at the rest of the house afterwards. 

And then Jee-Tah handed her a tankard with a sweet, rich smelling drink in it. 

“For you, honoured land-strider.”  He said. 

“Thank you.”  She answered, “Just call me Saadia though.”  She answered and turned her attention to Llewellyn.  She took a sip of the drink and nearly gasped it was so delicious.  “What is this?”  She turned back to Jee-Tah who beamed with delight. 

“Hot mulled wine.”  He answered, “An Argonian recipe.  Saadia.”  He added. 

“I look forward to more of your Argonian recipes Jee-Tah.”  She said, “Thank you.” 

Llewellyn sang beautifully, and passionately, expertly playing up the drama of the battles, the images of the bloody fights crisp and clear, and the lewd, sexual parts were steamy and exciting. 

“He’s very good.”  Saadia said in a low tone to Camilla who nodded.

“A very big step above Sven.”  She noted.  Sven was a decent bard, but he had nothing on Llewellyn.

“And even bigger step above Mikael.”  Saadia said and Camilla cocked an eyebrow.  “A bard in Whiterun.”

“Ah.”  She nodded her understanding. 

When he had finished Saadia stood and clapped him and he bowed low, as a bard normally would after a performance. 

“I’m very glad to have you in my employ.”  She said, “And when I’m not here, I’m sure my other employees will be glad to hear you sing occasionally.”  She noted and he nodded.

“I need to practice my skills every day.”  He agreed. 

She noticed Jee-Tah standing to attention against the wall and looked at him curiously.

“What are you doing?”

“My job, Saadia.”  He answered. 

“He is your servant, friend.”  Camilla explained, “It’s everyone’s job here to ensure that you are happy, comfortable and have what you need.”

“But I will not have that come at the expense of their own happiness or comfort.”  Saadia answered, “At least come and sit while you await my commands.”  She said to Jee-Tah, who looked amazed by her suggestion.  “And what do you do when I’m not here?”  She asked, “Besides clean my stoop?”

“Clean the entire house.”  He answered, “Cook for everyone, keep the kitchen larders appropriately stocked by keeping Camilla appraised of their contents.” 

“A big job.”  Saadia noted, “Let Camilla know if you need help with it.”

“I manage it alone.”  Jee-Tah answered. 

Saadia turned to Camilla who was laughing.

“You’re not used to this are you?”  She asked and Saadia shook her head.  “You’re a Thane in 2 Holds, you are Dragonborn, you have an estate now… You better start getting used to it, my friend.” 

“A ballad now, dear Thane of Falkreath?”  Llewellyn asked.

“Yes, by all means.”  Saadia answered, “Let’s hear you sing of love.” 

He again sang beautifully, the notes of love, aching and breathless, Saadia feeling the soaring of emotion with every word he sang.

“He is very good.”  She mumbled and when he finished she again stood and clapped him.  “I want to hear both of those songs tomorrow night.”

“You will!”  He answered, “And many more!”  He said readily, “But I must know the name of all the guests that will be present?”  He said and Camilla nodded.

“I’ll see you get it.”  She answered.

“Now where is Rayya?”  Saadia asked.

“Checking the security at the cheese making factory.”  Camilla said with a grin, “Faendal already has the doors in place, and the room is cleared and ready to begin production once we get a proper herd of cows.” 

“Incredible!”  Saadia said, amazed, “That was fast.” 

“The sewer works will take longer.”  Camilla conceded, “To ensure the groundwater is not contaminated.”  She explained, “Faendal knows more about it than I do.” 

“I trust that both of you know exactly what you’re doing.”  Saadia answered.  “Now I need to have a look around at all of the furniture!”

“We put in a wall in Lucia’s room, just making a small private place for Lydia.”  Camilla said, “We figured she would be coming when Lucia did?”  Camilla asked and Saadia nodded.  “I’m excited to meet your daughter tomorrow.”  Camilla said, clapping her hands together, “And the Circle tonight!”  She seemed giddy with excitement. 

Saadia enjoyed Camilla’s excitement; Camilla had always wanted a little adventure in her life, but this had always been tempered by the knowledge that leaving the safety of Riverwood, or now Lakeview Manor, would terrify her.  This gave her the chance to have a little adventure in a safe setting, and Saadia was glad to give that to her dear friend. 

She looked in at the bathing room.

“By the Gods…”  She whispered.  Faendal had somehow managed to create in indoor pond!  She went up the steps to the pond and looked in the water; it was clear and beautiful, a seat moulded out of stone in the water looked very inviting.  The bath was big enough for several people and Saadia thought there would be more than one use for this bath. 

“The water is piped in from outside.”  Camilla said, noting the small waterfall that came down the wall, “The rocks purify it, and it empties into a continuous flow out onto the fields, watering the crops.”  She said. 

“It’s ingenious.”  Saadia was amazed. 

“I know.  Faendal is very good at this kind of thing!”  Camilla said.  “He made a smaller one of these for our home.”  She said, “And you can heat the water with a small fire under the stairs.”  She said, opening a small door that led to a fireplace under the bath tub. 

The room was humid; small windows in the wall with sun streaming in caused the water in the bath to evaporate a little.  And moss was growing on the walls. 

“I put the moss in.”  Camilla said, “It helps keep the room clean and fresh.”

“Agreed.”  Saadia nodded.

“I’ll be putting some orchids in too, once the room is better established.” 

“I can’t believe it.”  She said and opened a door that led to a toilet. 

“The toilet isn’t useable yet.”  Camilla said, “We’re all using traditional methods until the second underground room is finished.”  Camilla said and Saadia nodded. 

She headed up the stairs, Camilla following, with Jee-Tah staying at a respectful distance.  She could see that the place wasn’t finished yet, but they were making incredible progress. 

When she got upstairs to her bedroom, Saadia gasped and covered her mouth.

A huge, hand-carved, 4-poster bed, with gorgeous netting, plush mattress and pillows, and thick blankets sat central on the back wall, overlooking the rest of the room, and the windows that looked out onto the balcony.

Faendal had kept the windows small, just as Saadia had when making the house; it served for better protection in the event of an attack.  But he had positioned them in such a way as to provide a view of the lake from the bed. 

Camilla smiled as Saadia’s fingers gently touched the intricately carved posters of the bed.

“By the Gods…”  She said softly. 

“He’s been busy on our cottage as well.”  Camilla said. 

“He should sell this furniture.  He’d be rich.”

“I’ve told him that.”  Camilla said, “He’s more interested in communing with nature.”  She grinned, “Elves!”  She said knowingly and Saadia laughed.  “I love him so much.”  Camilla said, “Would it bother you if I moved in with him before we were married?”  She asked, “I know it’s your cottage, so if you’re opposed I’ll understand.” 

“You 2 can move in whenever the cottage is ready.”  Saadia answered.  “I don’t care if you never get married.” 

“Oh we’re getting married!”  Camilla answered. 

Saadia checked in on Jee-Tah’s preparations for the Circle coming tonight and a lot more people coming tomorrow night, and was impressed – there would be plenty of food. 

They headed back downstairs and out to the cottage, seeing Gunjar and his daughter grooming the horses on the way.  Svali waved at her and Saadia waved back, the girl giggling, Gunjar smiling happily. 

“You’ve chosen the staff exceptionally well.”  Saadia noted. 

“Thank you.”  Camilla answered, “I think I’ve done alright too.”  She grinned, “I wanted them to not only be good at their jobs, but also be the sort of people I could handle being around every day.  Since we’ll be living out here.” 

“Good thinking.”

“I thought so.”  Camilla answered, pleased with Saadia’s approval.

When they got to the cottage, Hadvar was stacking some armour up into a large wheelbarrow. 

“Saadia!”  He said happily and gave her a big bear hug. 

“It’s been too long.”  She said, hugging him tightly.  “How’s everything?”

“Well I’ve finished identifying all the bodies in the ruins, and have informed all the families and returned all the missing goods.”  He said, “However, that accounted for maybe 10% of the goods down there.” 

“Wow…”  Saadia said slowly.

“Yes… so we’re slowly selling everything off.  So far we’ve made 120,000 coins.”

“By the Gods…”  Saadia whispered.

“I thought we could build an orphanage for some of the parentless children in Skyrim.”  Camilla said, “I’ve heard of a suitable building in Riften, and the Jarl has agreed to help with the continuing running costs if we pay for the refurbishment of the building.”

“Of course.”  Saadia agreed.

“That’ll cost about 100,000 of the money we’ve made.”  She said, “I’ve already spent the other 20,000 on hiring people and getting the place running so quickly.”  She added, “But I thought you wouldn’t mind since we’ll have to make a monthly contribution to the orphanage, and the only way to afford that will be if this place is very profitable.”

“Agreed.”  Saadia nodded, “How much more is there still to sell?”  She asked Hadvar.

“There’s about a quarter of it left.”  He said, “So you’ll have a lot more gold to finish this place and get it in excellent condition for next growing season.” 

“That is excellent news.”

“The bad news is I won’t have enough time to finish selling everything.”  He sighed.

“That’s alright Hadvar, I’ll set up a little shop somewhere and sell the rest off.”  Camilla said.

“Yes but I was selling it to the Legion!”  He laughed, “Got rid of big chunks of merchandise quickly.”  He told Saadia, “It’ll take a lot longer this way.”

“I don’t mind.”  Saadia answered with a shrug.  “As long as we can start growing next season, everything else will settle into place over however much time it takes.” 

Some doors opened, as if from the very earth, not far from the front of the cottage and Faendal and Rayya came out, talking, walking up the stairs to the ground level. 

“My Tane!”  Rayya said, glad to see Saadia.  They hugged, and then Saadia hugged Faendal.

“Thank you for all your hard work.”  She said happily, “That bed is beautiful.”

“I enjoyed working the wood.”  He answered. 

“How goes security?”  Saadia asked Rayya.

“If we are to fully protect your land we will need to hire more guards, and perhaps have a bunkhouse for them.”  Rayya answered.  “I caught several hunters yesterday.” 

“You know I don’t mind if people hunt for food on my land, right?”  Saadia said, “You don’ t have to be too strict.”

“These people were hunting your elk and selling them off to others for an inflated price.”  Rayya said, “No hungry or poor or starving people were being helped by them.” 

“Ah.”  Saadia answered, “I see.”

“I would not stop a person who was hunting for their own food.”  Rayya continued, “Unless you commanded it.”

“Good to know.”  Saadia answered, “I’ll just leave you to do your job!”  She laughed, “You know what you’re about.” 

“That I do, my Thane.”  Rayya answered. 

“When Lucia gets here tomorrow, we should start the search for a tutor.”  Saadia sighed. 

“Well I have to get to know her first, before I can have an idea about what to look for.”  Camilla answered.

“I was thinking I might have something to do with it too.”  Saadia laughed.

“Oh of course.”  Camilla answered, “But it is my job!” 

“I’m glad you like your job.  I hope I’m paying you already?”  Saadia asked.  Initially she hadn’t expected to be paying Camilla until after she moved into the cottage.  But she had done so much work, there was no doubt she should receive a wage now. 

“Yes.”  Camilla answered, “And quite well too.”

“Good.”  Saadia answered.

“And if you want to take a look at the books, I am keeping meticulous records, and all of our receipts.”  Camilla answered.

“Maybe later.”  Saadia said, having no intention of checking the books.  She trusted Camilla. 

 

***

 

“Perhaps you’d like a hot bath, old man?”  Saadia said with a grin as Kodlak looked at the huge pond like a bath tub with an impressed expression.

“You could fit us all in there.”  Farkas said, impressed.

“Maybe after a night on the mead!”  Skjor laughed. 

“I wouldn’t mind a hot bath.”  Kodlak nodded slowly.

“I’ll have Jee-Tah start a fire for you, while you continue looking around.”  Camilla said, trying to not be too excited. 

“That would be most appreciated.”  The old man smiled at her and Camilla beamed.  Saadia noticed Camilla give Farkas a slight smile, and him giving her a wink as she left the room, and remembered that they had shared a night of sex before she had known either of them.  She had a feeling that Camilla’s bed was only warmed by Faendal nowadays. 

They headed upstairs, everyone making various comments, until they came to Saadia’s bedroom on the top floor.

“Beautiful.”  Aela said, fingering the delicate netting that hung from the posters.  Farkas sat down on the plush bed and gave Saadia a truly lustful look.

“I could get used to this.”  He said and Skjor laughed heartily, clapping him on the back, while Vilkas turned away and went to the doors and opened them up to see the balcony and the stunning view over the lake. 

“It’s good piece of land.”  Vilkas said, looking across the water, “And a fine house.”

Kodlak stood at the door, taking them all in, his wise eyes seeing much, and his heart knowing even more.  He looked at Saadia, laughing with Skjor about the bed being too soft for good hard rutting, Aela shaking her head but still amused, Farkas chuckling, Vilkas staring at the view still and understood much about each of them. 

He knew that Skjor and Aela wanted to initiate Saadia; they saw a great warrior in her, and knew what a great asset she was to the Circle and the Companions – they wanted to further consolidate their Shield-sibling bonds with the bond of the Beastblood. 

He also knew that the brothers were both deeply against it.  For different reasons, Farkas simply because his brother was.  And Vilkas… his reasons were complicated, convoluted and ultimately, when he simplified them in his own mind, it came down to the teachings of Kodlak; that the Beastblood was a curse. 

At present Skjor and Aela were abiding by the wishes of the majority of the Circle and not offering Saadia what they considered to be a blessing. 

But Kodlak sensed in Saadia a growing curiosity and worried what that would mean in the long run.  If Aela and Skjor felt her curiosity, that might persuade them to follow their own path and offer to turn her, and there was nothing that anyone could do to stop them; there were no masters in the Companions.  Just mutual respect. 

Kodlak felt a surge of protectiveness for Saadia, but reminded himself that she must choose her own path.  He had a feeling he should remind the other members of the Circle of that too. 

“Well there’s 2 hours until dinner, so I want you all to make yourselves at home until then.”  She said.  There was some small talk for a few moments and then everyone started to wonder off, Farkas to find Camilla to talk about her upcoming wedding, Aela to find Faendal and speak to him of the hunting on the grounds, Kodlak to have a bath, Skjor to check her alcohol supplies.  But Vilkas stayed on her balcony, staring at the view.  She went out to him.

“You seem the least impressed.”  She said, “The least at home here.” 

“Jorrvaskr will always be my home.”  He answered.

“You don’t see yourself ever getting married or getting a place of your own?”

“No.”  He answered simply. 

“Well,” She said, leaning on the banister, “Whether you like it or not, this is your second home now.”  She said and he cocked an eyebrow at her. 

“I never said I couldn’t have a second home.”  He said with a reassuring smile. 

“Good, because you’ll always be welcome in my home.”

“Homes.”  He corrected. 

“Homes.”  She accepted his correction in good humour. 

“It is very beautiful here.”  He said, “The landscape speaks to my Nord blood.”  His eyes stayed on the mountain behind lake. 

“I think it speaks to Aela’s Beastblood.”  Saadia said casually, thinking about her keen interest in the hunting around here. 

“Mine too.”  He answered, “The wild places always do.”  She looked at his face; she liked it when he spoke about the Beastblood.  He was the only one in the Circle who would.  Farkas shrugged it off, Aela said you couldn’t understand it unless you had it, Skjor simply would counter all her questions with an offer to become a werewolf, and Kodlak only spoke about curing it.  “Aela will mark this as our territory.”  He said, “It’ll keep other werewolves away.”  He told her.

“That’s a thing that happens…?”  She marvelled.

“That’s a thing that happens.”  He answered.  “She’ll scratch up the trees, leaving her scent in them.”  He explained. 

“Oh so it’s not like…?”

“No we don’t pee on everything.”  He answered sourly.  She tried not to laugh, but she couldn’t help it.  He shook his head at her but eventually started to laugh too.  “Is it really that interesting to you?”  He asked after a while. 

“Yes.”  She answered with a shrug.  “Is my Dragon Blood really that interesting to you?”  She pointed out and he accepted her words with a nod of his head. 

“I suppose it is Human nature to be curious about things.”  He said, “Especially things you can never have.”  He added.

“You making that decision for me now?”

“I was more referring to your Dragon Blood.”  He noted and then sucked his teeth as he looked away.  “But if it was up to me-”

“Yes I know.”  She sighed. 

“But it’s not.”  He said simply.  She heard the edge of fear in that tone; fear for her. 

“You’re afraid of me having the Beastblood.”  She noted and he started to shake his head and then sighed.

“Is there any point in me lying about it?”  He asked her.

“So you admit you lie to me?”

“Sometimes.”  He admitted, making eye contact with her. 

“Why do you lie to me?”

“That knowledge is for me and me alone.”  He answered firmly. 

She stared at him, silence passing between them. 

But she had no choice but to accept his words; he was entitled to keep things to himself if he chose to.

“And why do you fear me getting Beastblood?”  She asked.

“To have the blessings of the Aedra and the cursing of a Daedra in one being?”  He asked and shook his head, “Who knows what would happen.” 

“Are you afraid I would go feral?”  She asked.

“I’m afraid it would destroy you… who you are…”  He admitted, “Or perhaps the Aedra would be so disgusted by the curse running in the same veins as their blessings, that they would strip you of those blessings.” 

“You’re afraid I’d no longer be Dragonborn?”  She hadn’t thought of that possibility.  But almost immediately she knew that this was not a possibility.

“I am.”  He said, nodding.

“I will always be Dragonborn.”  She said, “I can no more have that stripped from me than you could have your Nord blood stripped from you – it would kill you.”  She said, “I cannot exist if I am not Dragonborn.” 

“Then perhaps it would kill you.”  He said softly.  “It is a curse, S-” He stopped himself.  “Shield-sister.”  He said slowly.  “And someone such as you; a light… a shining hope for all of Tamriel… cannot be darkened so.  It cannot be allowed to be.”  He said in an almost pleading tone. 

“Why won’t you say my name?”  She asked again.

“Because you are a descendant of a God.”  He said, looking down, “I am not worthy to speak your name.” 

She stared at him, not sure if she believed him.  She could tell that he believed what he had said… but there was something more.  Something he chose to keep to himself. 

“Vilkas, I’m not descended from a God.”  She said, “And if I were to have Beastblood, it would taint me no more than it tainted any of you.  And knowing and loving you all as I do – I do not believe that it has tainted any of you.” 

He leaned on the banister and took a deep breath, she could see he was working hard to control himself; there were obviously so many things he wanted to say.

“We each have our own beliefs Dovahkiin.”  He said eventually. 

“Yes.”  She agreed and stared out over the lake in silence.

“You always come to me with the most complicated conversations!”  He laughed almost bitterly.  “Why can’t you just come to me asking about some new creature you’ve killed.”

“Because I know what most of them are.”  She shrugged, “or I don’t care because they’re dead.”  He sighed and laughed at the same time.

“I’ve killed at least one of every animal in Skyrim, so I could tell you a lot about them.”  He said looking up at the sky as the sun set.  “Maybe it’s time to go to Solstheim - find something new to kill?”  He asked himself.

“Except a Dragon.”  Saadia said meaningfully.  “You’ve killed one of everything in Skyrim – except a Dragon.  So you can’t go to Solstheim till you have.”  She shrugged, as if to say ‘I don’t make the rules.’

“But I can’t do that.”  He said simply.  “Only you can kill a Dragon, Dovahkiin – the rest of us can only help you.  But only you can do it.”  He said meaningfully.  “Don’t you realise how important you are?”  He held her gaze and Saadia felt a deep well of emotion behind his words.  He truly believed she was a descendant of a God; the one to save Skyrim. 

“Perhaps not.”  She answered truthfully.  “But above all else, before I am Dovahkiin, Companion, or anything else – I am Saadia.  I am Saadia first, and always.”  They stared at each other for a moment.  “And you will always be Vilkas first.  And everything else is second.” 

“That’s how you truly see me isn’t it?”  He asked.  She couldn’t understand his question, and was about to ask for clarification when Aela appeared. 

“Vilkas, there’s another wolf around.”  She said softly.

“Feral?”  He asked, alarmed and she shook her head.

“Doesn’t smell like it.  But he’s passed through this territory several times over the past few days.  He’s interested in the area.” 

“Damnit.”  He sighed heavily. 

“Is that bad?”  Saadia asked.  “If he’s not feral…?”

“You don’t want him considering this to be part of his territory.”  Aela answered.  “If he’s not friendly like us…”

“Oh… Right.”  Saadia nodded, understanding.  “He could attack my home.” 

“Yes.”  Aela said.  “I suggest we all mark the territory as ours, and keep someone out here until he decides to move on.”  She said and Vilkas nodded.  “I have no doubt Farkas will be spending a lot of time here.”  She noted, “So it shouldn’t be too difficult to manage.” 

“We’ll need to tell Kodlak.”  He said and she nodded. 

“Skjor, Farkas and I are heading out to mark now.”  She said. 

“I don’t want Farkas turning.”  Vilkas said reluctantly.

“Try stopping him.”  She said; “When Saadia’s safety is in question… you won’t change his mind on this.” 

“I know.”

“And are you saying that you won’t mark?”  She asked, “Or that you two shouldn’t mark because of this ridiculous-”

“Aela!”  Vilkas said curtly, “I’ll mark.” 

“You don’t have to.”  Saadia said.  “I can kill a Dragon, I’m sure I’ll manage a werewolf.”

“I’m sure you will.”  Aela agreed, “But I’m less sure Lucia will, no matter how fast she progresses with the bow.” 

“And you won’t always be here.”  Vilkas reminded her. 

“Point made.”  Saadia conceded.  “I just don’t want to make the brothers do something they don’t want to.”  She said to Aela and then looked to Vilkas.

“Try stopping me.”  He said sourly.  He sighed and followed Aela back through the house, Saadia watching them go. 

She wondered how they would all look as werewolves, but knew that this was a private moment for them; marking territory was something the pack did.  And she wasn’t part of that pack. 

 

***

 

Kodlak had agreed to mark the territory in the morning, when he would leave for Jorrvaskr.  The rest of the Circle were staying for the feast tomorrow night.  But Kodlak believed such parties were a young man’s activity, and the newest whelps, who weren’t invited to the feast, needed guidance. 

Saadia’s heart ached for Kodlak.  The look of reluctance in his eyes.  He didn’t want to turn.  She knew that Kodlak and Vilkas hadn’t turned for over a year, and they’d been trying to avoid it as much as possible for several years now. 

She hated to know that she was the reason they had broken that promise to each other.  She knew Farkas was also trying not to turn… but she also knew Farkas still did occasionally.  He didn’t tell them that though. 

Vilkas had come back from the marking looking a little worse for wear.  She remembered that he found the Beastblood very addictive, and found great joy in being in his wolf form.  Denying himself these pleasures was hard work; even harder when he gave himself small tastes like this.  Denying the hunt, the call of the blood… it was torture for him.  The willpower he had to deny it was remarkable. 

But today he had willingly turned to protect her and her family.  And so would Kodlak.  She felt bad about it. 

They sat down to dinner, Farkas on one side of her, Vilkas on the other, Skjor, Aela and Kodlak on the other side of the table.  Tonight it would just be them dining, tomorrow it would be all of her friends and servants. 

“Don’t feel bad.”  Vilkas said softly as Jee-Tah began serving up the first course of food and everyone else chatted easily.  She looked at him and saw that his eyes almost looked bruised from the dark rings under his eyes.

“It knocks you about.”  She said softly. 

“No.  Denying it does.”  He answered.  “Thank you.”  He said to Jee-Tah as he served up some food on Vilkas’s plate. 

Saadia noticed that Aela and Skjor did not have the same dark circles under their eyes, nor did Farkas.  She knew that Aela and Skjor turned regularly, and she knew that all of this did not affect Farkas as much as it did everyone else; he could turn or not turn with little consequence. 

“This is delicious!”  Aela said and Jee-Tah beamed.

“Thank you!”  He said happily, “You are too kind, land-strider.” 

“How many courses are there?”  Skjor asked.

“17.”  Jee-Tah answered and he left while everyone tried not to laugh.

“How much does he think we can eat?”  Aela chuckled. 

“17 courses will be easy if it all tastes this good.”  Farkas answered, eating the meat right off the bone. 

“Good point.”  She said, picking up the meat and eating it in the same manner. 

They ate and laughed and talked for hours, settling into a good long slow session of feasting.  Jee-Tah timed when to bring out each next course to perfection, and kept their mugs filled with a variety of alcoholic beverages – matching the drink to each course of the meal.

After a while Llewellyn the Nightingale came into the hall.

“May I have permission to practice my ballads my Thane?’  He asked Saadia, “both sung and spoken?” 

“YES!”  Skjor answered happily.

“He said ballads not bawdy tails of wenching.”  Aela said and Skjor pulled a face.  They all laughed and Saadia nodded.

“Let’s hear some then.”  She said, “But afterwards, perhaps a few drinking songs would be good.”

“Of course!”  He said and cleared his throat.  “This is the song of a young man’s true love, for is one Peerless Lady.” 

“Peerless?”  Farkas mumbled under his breath and Vilkas leaned around Saadia’s back so that no one would notice.

“Meaning without peer, she has no equal.”  He said very softly.  She saw Farkas nod slightly and felt Vilkas settle into the seat next to her, still leaned over slightly in case he had to explain anything else to Farkas. 

She noticed that Skjor, Aela and Kodlak had their eyes on Llewellyn and hadn’t noticed this exchange.  She had a feeling that this kind of thing happened a lot.  She smiled at the brothers’ relationship; one of mutual love and support. 

Saadia made no sign that she had heard the conversation, even though they both had to know that she had, and nodded for Llewellyn to begin. 

“To keep faith, to guard your honour, to seek peace, to obey, to fear, to serve, and to honour – All these I wish to do for you until death, Peerless Lady.”  The song was slow and beautifully melodic; Llewellyn’s voice was high and pure and clear and trilled through the notes gorgeously.  Aela’s eyes opened up in appreciation and Skjor’s head dropped to the side in surprise for how beautiful it was.  Kodlak closed his eyes in enjoyment and Farkas leaned forward, listening closely.  Vilkas took a deep breath and let the music of Llewellyn’s voice carry him away.

Saadia couldn’t believe the beauty of the song.  It sounded like Llewellyn was playing several instruments and singing at the same time; but it was just his voice. 

“For I love you so much – it’s no lie!  That one could dry up the high seas and hold back its waves, before I could hold back from loving you.”  Llewellyn continued and Saadia felt her heart soaring with the beauty of his voice, “I do not lie, for my thoughts, my memory, my pleasure and my desire - are endlessly in you, whom I cannot abandon, nor ever forget.” 

“By Ysgramor.”  Skjor was impressed.  He leaned on the table and watched Llewellyn, and Aela leaned towards Skjor.  Farkas made a noise of enjoyment and Saadia could almost feel the tension in Vilkas.  But Kodlak’s appreciative smile, his eyes still closed, was something magic to Saadia; she enjoyed bringing that old man such pleasure. 

“To keep faith, to guard your honour, to seek peace, to obey, to fear, to serve, and to honour – All these I wish to do for you until death, Peerless Lady.”  Llewellyn repeated the chorus, “There is no joy, no pleasure, nor any other good that I might feel or imagine which does not seem to fade, when your sweetness chooses to soften my bitterness.” 

Saadia heard Vilkas take a deep breath and breath out slowly, as if the words were deeply meaningful to him. 

She understood that the tension in him was because he liked it.  He had a strange way of showing pleasure, she thought to herself. 

“Thus I want to praise and adore and worship you, to fear you, to suffer anything for you, welcome all, endure all, more than I desire winning any reward.  To keep faith, to guard your honour, to seek peace, to obey, to fear, to serve, and to honour – All these I wish to do for you until death, Peerless Lady.” 

Everyone was spellbound by Llewellyn’s voice, their eyes glued to him. 

“You are the true sapphire which is able to heal and bring to an end all my ills.  An emerald to rejoice in.  A ruby to brighten and comfort my heart.  Your words, your glances, your bearing, make every vice flee and become hateful and despicable and every good become cherished and desired.  To keep faith, to guard your honour, to seek peace, to obey, to fear, to serve, and to honour – All these I wish to do for you until death, Peerless Lady.”  He ended the song with a complicated trill and there was a moment of silence before Vilkas stood and clapped him.  Kodlak beamed and joined Vilkas in standing and applauding Llewellyn, everyone else following their actions, praising Llewellyn.

Llewellyn bowed deeply and thanked them for their praise and applause.  But Saadia could tell that he knew how talented he was and expected nothing else.  He had done this song to wow them – and had succeeded. 

“That song almost makes me wish I was in love.”  Skjor said as she sat down and Saadia saw Aela look away, her eyes dropping. 

“Are you not?”  She asked and everyone turned their eyes to her.  “Everyone has something… or someone they love.”  She explained. 

“But not everyone loves a woman.”  He answered gruffly, and took a long swig of his mead. 

“Very true.”  Vilkas answered and picked his fork up, continuing to eat. 

Saadia looked across the table at Aela and their eyes met momentarily.  They understood each other perfectly in that moment.  But Aela looked away.

“What else have you got for us bard?”  Aela asked and Llewellyn finished his drink of water quickly before answering.

“A classic, spoken ballade of love lost.”  He answered. 

“I love the classics.”  Vilkas said and leaned forward again, his food suddenly forgotten again. 

Llewellyn cleared his throat. 

“I am weary of lying within the chase,” He said, his voice clear and powerful, weaving a tale of a man tired of his lot in life.  “When the knights are meeting in the market place.  Nay, go not thou to the red-roofed town, lest the hooves of the war-horse tread thee down.”

Saadia noticed Farkas drop his head to the side, not fully understanding the ballade.  Vilkas made a noise of appreciation and understanding; the evocative imagery clear to him, the hidden meanings and references easy for him to decipher.  Saadia didn’t know where the red-roofed town was, but it was clear Vilkas did.  As did Kodlak who was nodding slowly.  Aela had her eyes lowered, listening closely, and Skjor watched Llewellyn, the mead cup held in his hand, close to his lips. 

Saadia listened closely, wanting to understand it all. 

“But I would not go where the squires ride, I would only walk by my lady’s side.”  He said wistfully, Saadia understood that the man in the story didn’t want to do the job he was supposed to do, but only wanted to be wherever the woman he loved was.  She didn’t understand that kind of thinking; there was more to life than being only where one person was. 

But beside her Vilkas was tense again; he was intensely interested in this poem. 

“Alack!  And Alack!  Thou art overbold, a forester’s son may not eat of gold.”  Llewellyn voice sounded almost heartbroken, aching, yearning for this woman he could not have because of his station in life being so much lower than hers. 

She heard Vilkas make a noise of understanding.  But it wasn’t just the words he seemed to understand; there was more to the noise he made.  She turned and looked at Vilkas, his eyes glued to Llewellyn as the skilful bard weaved his tale of woe. 

“Will she love me the less that my family would never worship eight Gods instead of nine?”  Llewellyn seemed to plead with them that the religious differences between he and the lady he loved would be overlooked; that she could still love him even though there were so many differences between them and their families.  “Perchance she is sewing at tapestries, spindle and loom are not meet for thee.  Ah, if she is working the arras bright I might ravel the threads by the fire-light.  Perchance she is hunting of the deer, how could you follow o’er hill and meer?  Ah, if she is riding with the court, I might run beside her and wind the morte.”  Saadia was taken away with the story; how this man wanted to find ways to spend time with her in any way he could.  There was an odd kind of romanticism in it that was somehow appealing. 

She looked to Farkas, who’s eyes were narrowed.  He wasn’t keeping up with the poem and its flowery language; it spoke in metaphors and references and he preferred plain language. 

But Llewellyn’s voice change; it was foreboding now.

“Come in my son, for you look so pale.”  He said softly, everyone hung on his words, even Farkas who wasn’t sure what was happening in the tale, could see the skill the bard had, “The priest shall fill thee a stoup of ale.”  Llewellyn paused, making them wait.  “But who are these knights in bright array?  Is it a pageant the rich folks play?”  Llewellyn paused again, his voice again dropping low, “’Tis the king of Atmora from over sea, who has come unto visit our fair country.”  Saadia understood that this was a conversation between the young man of the story and someone else; something was happening, and the deepening of Llewellyn’s voice told her it was something bad.  “But why does the curfew toll so low?  And why do the mourners walk a-row?”  She could feel Vilkas stiffen and again turned her eyes to him; his whole body was tense, his brows furrowed and his eyes fixed on Llewellyn.  “Oh ‘tis Hugh of Aleswell, my sister’s son, who is lying stark, for his day is done.”  It was a funeral precession that the young man was seeing, and he was guessing who had died.  “Nay, nay, for I see white lilies clear; it is no strong man who lies on the bier.  Oh ‘tis old Dame Jeanette that kept the hall, I knew she would die at the autumn fall.”  Saadia felt her hand go over her mouth; she knew where this was going.  “Dame Jeanette had not that gold-brown hair, old Jeanette was not a maiden fair.”  Vilkas leaned even more forward, Aela leaned forward too, but Farkas leaned back.  Saadia looked at him and saw his eyebrows drawn in concentration.  “Oh ‘tis none of our kith and none of our kin, her soul may the Divines assoil from sin.”  Llewellyn continued; the young man of the story was in denial, “But I hear the boy’s voice chanting sweet; ‘she is dead, dear Marguerite.’”  There was a moment of silence, Llewellyn looked crestfallen; as if his whole life had been destroyed, and she heard Vilkas’s breath catch in his throat.  And Llewellyn’s face became sympathetic, his voice low; “Come in my son and lie on the bed, and let the dead folk bury their dead.”  Advice to a grieving young man… but Llewellyn’s face changed again, a tear dripping down his cheek.  “Oh mother, you know I loved her true.  Oh mother…” He paused, his body shuddering with grief, “Hath one grave room for two?” 

There was a moment of silence in which Vilkas slowly let his breath out.  It was again Vilkas who clapped first, again standing. 

After a lot of applause and praise Llewellyn bowed and excused himself to have a quick drink before coming back to sing drinking songs for them. 

Conversation began again, another course of food was brought out and Llewellyn returned to sing drinking songs. 

“I don’t understand why he wanted to die at the end?”  Farkas said softly and Saadia took a deep breath, not sure what to say.

“He was in love with her.”  Vilkas said, “And she died.  He felt there was no reason to continue living.” 

“But…”  Farkas narrowed his eyes and then lowered his voice, moving closer to Vilkas, the brothers leaning in front of Saadia, “Didn’t the girl barely know he was alive?” 

“He was beneath her.”  Vilkas said, “And they had different religious beliefs and yes… she didn’t know him very well.  But he loved her nonetheless.” 

“I still don’t understand why that would make a man want to die.”  Farkas answered.

“Because you have never been so deeply in love with someone that she filled your every waking thought.”  Vilkas answered.  “You have never loved so deeply that you would gladly give your life for her if it meant that she would have just one day of peace or happiness.”

“Why would you let yourself love someone that much – that you lose yourself?”  Farkas asked.

“You don’t have a choice when it comes to love.”  Vilkas answered and Farkas furrowed his brows. 

“You sound like you speak from experience.”  Saadia said to Vilkas, thinking that she understood Farkas’s standpoint more than Vilkas’s.  But she admired the romanticism of Vilkas’s words. 

“Perhaps.”  He answered in a taught voice. 

“Nurie?”  She asked with a soft voice.

“Or perhaps not.”  He said and looked away. 

“Perhaps you should have been a bard.”  Saadia said to Vilkas and Farkas snorted slightly, shaking his head with mirth. 

“Perhaps.”  Vilkas answered and Farkas outright laughed.  Vilkas looked happy at his brother’s mirth.  Saadia cocked an eyebrow.  “It’s a long-standing joke of ours that I should have been a bard.”  He said, “And a father and a farmer… I’m the soft one.” 

“And I’m the hard one.”  Farkas said, still laughing.  “The funny part is that he’s the more skilled fighter.  I’m just stronger.” 

Saadia laughed at how funny Farkas and Vilkas thought that was; she felt privileged to be allowed in on their strange humour. 

“Could you imagine him singing songs to crowds?”  Farkas laughed and Vilkas laughed even louder, hitting the table with his palm in his mirth.  She’d never seen them both laugh so hard. 

“You would make the better bard!”  Vilkas laughed at Farkas as Skjor raised his drink and started singing along with Llewellyn as he sung an uproarious drinking song. 

“Perhaps Skjor should be the bard.”  Saadia said and the brother’s mirth was instantly gone. 

“Why would you suggest that?”  Farkas asked and Vilkas shook his head and drank his mead.

“He’s… he’s singing…?”  Saadia said, not sure why they wouldn’t find that funny. 

“Skjor’s not the bard type.”  Vilkas said with a straight face. 

“Neither are either of you…?”  She was utterly confused now. 

“Yeah, Vilkas is.”  Farkas said, and just like that the brothers were laughing again, Saadia sitting between them, utterly perplexed. 

 

***

 

Saadia slept peacefully in her bed, Farkas beside her, her guests in beds downstairs.  She awoke early in the morning to see Kodlak off; the rest of her guests still sleeping soundly. 

She prepared Lucia’s room, knowing that she would be arriving in the mid-morning with Lydia and Rayya and Hadvar, who had gone out to Whiterun last night to accompany them back.  Tarryn went with Rayya, to be left with Meeko in Breezehome in Whiterun overnight.  The rest of the guests would arrive after lunch time.  Alvor, Sigrid and Dorthe were heading out from Riverwood, Njada, Ria, Athis and Torvar were coming from Whiterun with Carlotta, Mila, Jon, Lars, Olfina and Ysolda.  Most of them would be staying overnight; they would be drinking all night.  Gunjar, Camilla and Faendal would also attend, as would Jee-Tah, but he’d be working most of the night.  Saadia had granted him the next week off to visit some family.  So he was very happy to work hard tonight and tomorrow morning. 

The children; Lars Dorthe, Mila, Svali and Lucia would stay and Gunjar’s place, Lydia and Rayya agreeing to take turns guarding them throughout the night.  Everything was organised. 

Lucia loved the house, and the lake.  The first thing she did was run down to the water and dive in, Svali going with her, the girls falling into an easy friendship, especially over their shared love of horses. 

Jee-Tah and Camilla worked hard all morning, setting up the house for so many visitors, making sure there were enough makeshift beds, that the table was ready, the fires stoked, the food cooking. 

The arrival of the guests was exciting, and they all wandered around the property, taking in the views, the land, the house, several going down to swim, even though it was late and the usual chill of Skyrim’s nights was setting in.  

When the feast started, Llewellyn played the lute as background music, everyone talking, the children eating with the rest of the guests. 

Jee-Tah had organised over 30 courses of food this time; he expected the revelries to last all night and he had planned food and drink to last all night as well.  He also had a breakfast planned. 

When the night got a little old, Lydia accompanied the children to Gunjar’s house, and Llewellyn started to sing drinking songs, everyone getting very drunk and joining in.

“Landlord fill the flowing bowl until it doth run over!”  Llewellyn sang.

“Landlord fill the flowing bowl until it doth run over!”  Saadia’s guests sang raucously in reply. 

“For tonight we'll be merry, merry be!”  Llewellyn continued.

“For tonight we'll be merry, merry be!”  Saadia watched them all raising the tankards and mugs.

“Tomorrow we'll be sober!”  Llewellyn sung and everyone downed the entire contents of their mugs in response. 

She watched Jee-Tah quickly filling everyone’s mugs as the song continued.

“Here's to the man who drinks dark ale and goes to bed right mellow!”  Llewelyn sang.

“Here's to the man who drinks dark ale and goes to bed right mellow!”  All the women sang in reply. 

“He lives as he ought to live!”

“He lives as he ought to live!”

“And he dies a damn good fellow!”  Llewellyn sang and all the women downed their drinks in response. 

“Here's to the lass who steals a kiss and runs to tell her mother!”  Llewellyn sang and all the women laughed while the men responded.

“Here's to the lass who steals a kiss and runs to tell her mother!”

“She's a foolish, foolish thing!”

“She's a foolish, foolish thing!”

“For she'll never get another!”  Llewellyn delighted in delivering the line and the men downed their drinks; Jee-Tah scrambling to keep up the flow of mead, ale and other alcoholic drinks. 

Saadia laughed, and watched.  She was again sitting between the Wolf brothers, and today Vilkas was singing merrily, downing his drinks as everyone was.  And Farkas was singing even louder; there seemed to be a kind of pride in how much they could drink.  An unspoken drinking competition to see who was the last person standing. 

“Well when in Skyrim you do as the Nords do.”  She said to herself, repeating a saying Faendal had taught her.

“Landlord fill the flowing bowl until it doth run over!”  Llewellyn sang the chorus again.

“Landlord fill the flowing bowl until it doth run over!”  Saadia sang along this time. 

“For tonight we'll be merry, merry be!” 

“For tonight we'll be merry, merry be!”  Saadia raised her mug with everyone else, thoroughly amused by this whole thing.

“Tomorrow we'll be sober!”  Llewellyn sung and Saadia downed her mug of ale as quickly as she could, holding her mug out for more as Jee-Tah came around with a huge jug of alcohol. 

“Here's to the man drinks water pure and goes to bed right sober!”  Llewellyn sang and the men all laughed while the women responded.  
“Here's to the man drinks water pure and goes to bed right sober!”   
“He falls as the leaves do fall!”  
“He falls as the leaves do fall!”  
“He'll be dead by Evening Star!”  He said and Saadia laughed at the notion that a sober man will die by the end of the year for being sober.  But she had to stop laughing and down her drink. 

“Here's to the lass who steals a kiss and stays to get another!”  Llewellyn sang with a bawdy undertone that the men shared when they returned the line.  
“Here's to the lass who steals a kiss and stays to get another!”   
“She's a boon to all mankind!”  Llewellyn declared with a huge grin.  
“She's a boon to all mankind!”  Saadia couldn’t help but laugh as both brothers enthusiastically sang the line.  
“And soon she'll be a mother!”  Llewellyn sang and pulled a face that set everyone off laughing.  The men downed their drinks and Llewellyn began the chorus again.

“Landlord fill the flowing bowl until it doth run over!” 

“Landlord fill the flowing bowl until it doth run over!”  Everyone sang loudly. 

“For tonight we'll be merry, merry be!” 

“For tonight we'll be merry, merry be!”  Drinks where raised.

“Tomorrow we'll be sober!”  And drinks were downed. 

“Here’s to the man who ruts all night and can make her beg for more!”  Llewellyn said in a bawdy voice.

“Here’s to the man who ruts all night and can make her beg for more!”  The women laughed and sang merrily. 

“He’s a boon to all women!”

“He’s a boon to all women!”

“He’ll have them lined at his door!”  Llewellyn sang and the men roared with bawdy laughter while the women drank. 

“Here’s to the woman fair who outdrinks all men and still can stand!”

“Here’s to the woman fair who outdrinks all men and still can stand!”  Saadia looked around to see how all of her guests were going; everyone was enjoying the feast.  Even Aela was singing along loudly.

“She’s as ev’ry lass should be!”

“She’s as ev’ry lass should be!”  The men agreed loudly.

“And soon she’ll rule all the land!”

“YEAH!”  Skjor agreed loudly and the men all downed their drinks. 

“Landlord fill the flowing bowl until it doth run over!” 

“Landlord fill the flowing bowl until it doth run over!”  Saadia sang as loudly as she could, along with everyone else.  She was definitely getting quite drunk. 

“For tonight we'll be merry, merry be!” 

“For tonight we'll be merry, merry be!” 

“Tomorrow we'll be sober!”  She drank her drink and burped loudly, Vilkas laughing and slapping her on the back; he was obviously also a little drunk. 

“Here’s to the man who can please no lass – seeing kunte floors him!”

“Here’s to the man who can please no lass – seeing kunte floors him!”  Saadia laughed loudly; very glad the children were with Lydia in Gunjar’s house right now. 

“His virgin palms get hairy!”

“His virgin palms get hairy!”

“His cock will die of boredom!”

There was loud cackling laughter from the women as the men drank. 

“Why do his palms get hairy?”  Saadia asked, confused.

“Because he’s wanking all the time.”  Farkas said and showed her his hairless palms, “Because he can’t get a lass!” 

Saadia noticed all the men holding up their hairless palms.  Even the two Elven men seemed to be aware of this strange Nord custom and held their palms up.

“But… hair doesn’t grow on the palms…”  Saadia said as she watched Llewellyn hold his palms up proudly. 

“Hey, don’t tell the other lasses that!”  Vilkas said, leaning in closer than normal due to his drunkenness, “It’s a way for us men to prove our prowess.”  He intimated, his eyes shining with mirth and drink.

“One you can’t fail.”  She noted.

“Exactly.”  He said and raised his drink to her, downing it one gulp only to have it filled again by Jee-Tah.  Saadia laughed and Llewellyn began to sing again. 

“Here’s to the lass, who never drinks ale, she’d rather eat nightshade!” 

“Here’s to the lass, who never drinks ale, she’d rather eat nightshade!” 

“She’ll live complete misery!”

“She’ll live complete misery!”

“And she’ll die a lonely maid!”  Llewellyn sang and the men readily drank their drinks with no sign of slowing down. 

Another round of the chorus saw Jee-Tah run off his feet trying to keep up.

“Sober doesn’t rhyme with Evening Star very well…”  Athis noted. 

“You’re supposed to be too drunk to notice!”  Llewellyn roared with mirth, everyone laughing loudly. 

“ANOTHER!”  Skjor yelled and smashed his cup on the floor. 

All the Nords smashed the cups and Saadia watched in surprise, Camilla laughing and shaking her head, the two elves laughing and joining in.  Saadia looked over at Rayya; she still had her drink, having declined to smash her cup. 

Luckily, Jee-Tah had planned for this and had new mugs out and filled in no time, she saw Skjor toss him a huge bag of coins, and understood that this was for the cups. 

“Perhaps a bawdy tale?”  Llewellyn was responding to Skjor.  “Let’s ride below the crupper dear; I’ve plenty of butter you’ve nothing to fear!”  He half spoke, half sung.  The men cheered loudly and the women laughed.  “You’d best be heading to old downtown, and then you’ll give me a good green gown!”  Llewellyn replied to the first part of the song.  This time the women cheered and the men all laughed. 

“I have no idea what he’s saying…”  Saadia said softly.

“It’s a man asking his lady for anal sex.”  Vilkas answered, “The crupper keeps a horse tail up.”  He explained, “And going downtown is her way of saying lick my kunte, and then we’ll roll around in the grass-”

“Ah – a green gown.”  Saadia nodded. 

“Let’s ride below the crupper hun!  You know for me it’s so much fun!”  Llewellyn said, the bawdy laughter and cheers growing louder still, “You’d best take a walk in the shrubby bushland, or you’ll be better acquainted with your sweet right hand.”

“That means-”

“Yeah I got it.”  Saadia answered Vilkas and he laughed

“Let’s ride below the crupper tonight!  It’s warm, it’s good, it’s oh so tight!”  The men were laughing and cheering, Camilla was laughing loudly, and the other women were laughing or rolling their eyes with mirth.  “I think you’ll give me a Dibellan kiss, then plunge the sweet, pink, hot, abyss.” 

“Sounds good to me!”  Skjor laughed and everyone laughed along.  Vilkas made a lusty call in response and Farkas laughed rowdily.  Saadia was giggling; she couldn’t help it.  Seeing everyone so drunk and rowdy was a wonderful revelation.  Besides Llewellyn and Jee-Tah obviously, Rayya was the only sober person in the room, and that was because she would be swapping with Lydia to take care of the children; but even she was laughing. 

“A Dibellan kiss…” Vilkas began to explain, “It’s just be easier to show you.”  He laughed, “Explaining them doesn’t do them justice.”  He sighed happily.

“I know what they are.”

“Oh good!”  He said happily and downed his drink. 

Beside her Farkas was drinking steadily, his hand high on her thigh, calling out and laughing with everyone else. 

“Let’s ride below the crupper tonight my fair female!”  Llewellyn continued, “And I’ll let you drink deep of my Watkin’s ale!”  That set everyone off laughing, Aela making a noise of disgust.

“What’s Watkins ale?”  Saadia asked, turning to Vilkas for an explanation.  He was laughing, lust and mirth all over his face.  He looked her up and down.  Llewellyn broke into a long song about Watkin’s ale, and fair maidens being given it by young men. 

“Semen.”  He said simply after a moment. 

“Male spendings…”  Saadia nodded, using the term her father had always used for it.  “I see…” 

“He’s saying let me fuck your arse and I’ll let you drink my cum.”  Vilkas said, his eyes not leaving Saadia’s face.

“And she’s saying eat my kunte and make me scream in bliss.”  Saadia answered and Vilkas made a deep noise of appreciation, taking a long breath in as he nodded.  “Is this a common discussion in Nord bedrooms?”  She asked, teasing him.  “Do Nord men like anal more than Nord women?”

“I think a lot of men like anal more than women.”  Vilkas answered, very inebriated.

“You?”  She asked.

“Love it.”  He answered.  “You?”  He asked, his eyes dropping to her lips.

“You can do whatever you want to me as long as I cum.”  Saadia answered and Vilkas’s face grew more serious, his eyes became more focussed, zeroing in on her.  Saadia felt her breath catch; he’d never looked at her like that.  Somehow it was almost like being a rabbit, spotted by a wolf.  But not quite… And then she remembered the look he’d had in his eyes when he’d growled at her… it was the same.  “I meant you as in… general… anyone… not…”  She clarified, breathlessly, not sure why she felt so light headed suddenly. 

“Of course.”  He said, the intensity slowly leaving his face.  “Of course.”  He nodded and then laughed.  “ANOTHER!”  He threw his mug on the floor… and so did everyone else.  Saadia burst into laughter and threw hers down too, smashing it, and sending Jee-Tah off to the kitchen to get more mugs.  She didn’t mind that drunk Vilkas had considered bedding her; she knew that sober Vilkas had no interest in her, and she knew that alcohol often made you do things you regretted.  So she thought nothing more of it.  Vilkas tossed a pouch of gold to Jee-Tah when he came around with more mugs.

A song warning young maids to never marry old men, because they lay like they’re dead in bed set all the women laughing, and the men grumbling in between their laughter. 

“Never fuck an old man!”  Njada roared afterwards, “Bastards can’t get it up!”  The women laughed again and Saadia tried not to look at Skjor; the oldest man in the room.

But Llewellyn was already on the next song. 

“The ship sailed into harbor, after fifteen months at sea!  The captain hit the tavern, with his crew of 53.  After drinking up their pay, they staggered through the town.  But all the inns and public houses turned the sailors down.”  Llewellyn sang, his audience captivated, “The captain said ‘fear not, me lads - you all can come with me!  I live just ‘round the corner, and you all can stay for free!’  But when the captain’s wife awoke upon the break of day, they say that you could hear her wailing clear to Bleaker’s Way…”  He held the last note for a long time, a gleam in his eye, knowing that what he was about to sing would set them all off laughing.  “She said there’s…” Another held note, “Seamen all around the bed and seamen on the floor, seamen in the bathing room and behind the closet door!”  Everyone was laughing loudly, drinking hard, eating the new course of food Jee-Tah brought out.  “There’s seamen in the fireplace and seamen in the hall.  The living room is carpeted with seamen, wall to wall.  There’s seamen in the entryway and seamen on the stair!  And worst of all, there’s even seamen in my underwear!” 

Farkas laughed loudly, his hand moving sloppily to Saadia’s crotch as he downed another drink.  Despite Farkas’s obvious intentions, she knew that no one would be having sex tonight; everyone would be passed out… herself included.

“There’s some behind the larder, and beneath the table too!  I do believe your seamen got into my horker stew!  There’s seamen here in front of me, and seamen in the rear!”  This got a loud cheer from the men, after the crupper song, a lot of them clearly had rears in mind.  “By the Gods, there’s even seamen hanging from the chandelier!  There’s seamen on the windowsill and seamen in the yard.  The seamen even left a stain upon the singing bard!”  He joked and they all laughed, “Although I am a patient wife, ‘tis more than I can bear - to wake up in the morning with your seamen in my hair!  I ne’er again do wish to see thee darken up my door!  So clean up all your seamen and come round my way no more!”  Llewellyn said, making a motion of waving off someone, telling them to leave, “So clean up all your seamen and come round my way no more!”

Llewellyn stopped for a drink, and a quick bite to eat, the feast returning back to the serious business of eating the delicious boar Jee-Tah had prepared with apples and honey.  The conversation was bawdy, and Saadia could see Aela and Skjor talking closely, his eyes lit up with desire, hers with a fire and lust and love so deep it made Saadia believe that perhaps forever could be a thing.  Camilla was sitting on Faendal’s lap and Sigrid laughed when Alvor smacked her rump as she got up to go out and pee.  Njada was eyeing off Hadvar, wanting a piece of the military man, Ria and Athis were already kissing, his hand going up under her tunic.  Gunjar was drinking with Carlotta and Ysolda, talking merrily, none of them were interested in sex right now, but they made a happy company of friends.  Torvar had passed out from drinking so much.  Olfina and Jon had disappeared during the Watkin’s ale song, and Saadia had a feeling she wouldn’t be seeing them again tonight. 

And Saadia sat between the two brothers.  Farkas with his hand on her groin, all three of them drinking heavily, perhaps Vilkas the most heavily. 

Rayya sat eating with a smile on her face, completely sober, thoroughly amused. 

When Llewellyn started to sing again, it became apparent why he had needed everyone’s name.

“I hope you know this game!”  He said, “And I hope you’ve all still got your wits about you!”  He looked around the room, “Njada, my good lass!”  He said and Njada looked at him with surprise.  “If all the laddies were like pipes in the yard…”  He half sung, half spoke.  He looked at her expectantly and she understood. 

“After I drained them they'd still be hard.”  She replied in the same tune. 

The room erupted with cheers from the women and laughter from the men.  Llewellyn laughed appreciatively and looked around the room again. 

“Hadvar!”  He said merrily, “If all the young ladies were locks on a gate…”  Hadvar hesitated, thinking of his reply.

“I'd be a key to insert and rotate.”  He answered, again getting the cheers and laughter of everyone. 

“Sigrid!”

“Oh no…”  She said, putting a hand to her heart, her cheeks flushed with alcohol.

“If all the young laddies were fine silks and laces…”  Llewellyn sang.

“I’d be…” She thought carefully, “A hot clothes iron and sit on their faces…?”  she asked, not really singing her response.  Everyone cheered her and she laughed, blushing and swigging down some mead to hide her embarrassment.  Alvor gave her a cock of the eyebrow and pulled her onto his lap, whispering something in her ear that made her giggle and bite her bottom lip. 

“Faendal my Elven friend!  Don’t think I’ll let you get away without playing!”  Llewellyn said as he watched Faendal shake his head and laugh nervously.  “If all the young ladies were little white rabbits…”

“I'd be a hare and I'd teach them all bad habits!”  Faendal sounded surprised at his own ability to create a rhyming response.

“Best kind of habits for ladies to have!”  Skjor said and Vilkas and Farkas held up their cups to him in agreement. 

“And the lovely Carlotta.”  Llewellyn turned to her, “If laddies were chocolates in which to indulge…”

“I’d reach for the ones with the largest bulge.”  She answered easily, “of course!”  She added, everyone laughing and cheering her. 

“Skjor!”  Llewellyn turned to him, “Mighty warrior of the Companions - If all the young ladies were fish in the ocean…”

“Then I'd be a shark and cause a big commotion.”  He answered in a drunken, grizzled voice. 

“I bet you would!”  Njada laughed. 

“Ysolda!”  Llewellyn turned to her, “If all them young laddies were creamy milk in a cup…”

“I’d be a sweet little a kitten,” She answered saucily, “I’d lick them all up.” 

Saadia noticed more than one set of eyes appreciating Ysolda; she was very sexy. 

“Yeah you would!”  Njada agreed, raising her glass to Ysolda, draining it and then, “ANOTHER!”  She smashed it on the floor, and Jee-Tah again replaced them all when everyone else followed her lead, he got another sizeable pouch of gold for his troubles.

Llewellyn didn’t miss a beat.

“Athis!” 

“I’m ready!”  He said, the Elf had been told he had the heart of a Nord, and he saw this as another chance to prove it. 

“If all the young ladies were sweet fruits and berries…”  Llewellyn gave him his lead and Athis nodded, considering his response.

“I'd handle their melons and nibble their cherries!”  He said, setting all the men off with happy, lusty cheers, the women laughing and shaking their heads. 

“Ria!  If all them young laddies were whales in the sea…”

“I’d be a minnow and let them eat me.”  She answered after only a moment of thought. 

“I could be a whale!”  Athis declared and was met with a round of cheers and encouragement from the men.  Ria was blushing but Aela rolled her eyes at Ria’s response. 

“Alvor my blacksmithing friend,” Llewellyn said, “If all young lassies were a door made of wood…”

“That’s an easy one bard!”  Alvor answered, “I’d be the door knocker and bang them hard and good!”  His hand went to Sigrid’s hip as she sat upon his lap and squeezed her in tighter to him.  She whispered something to him and he gave her an appreciative look and a nod of the head while everyone cheered his response.  Saadia guessed they’d be having a lot of good sex over the next few days. 

“Aela!”  He said and she glared at him.  “If all the laddies were coconuts sweet…”

“Then I’d rip them open and eat their meat.”  She said fiercely and Llewellyn looked at her with shock.  Skjor cheered her, giving her a look that showed just how much he appreciated her savagery; it clearly turned him on.  “If that was too much, try another bard… I promise to be sweeter.”  She said with a wicked smile.

“Alright…”  Llewellyn said, “If all the young laddies were fire that scorches…”  He sang and Aela kept her wicked smile.

“Then I’d bury their bodies under their front porches.”  She said Skjor chuckled lustily for her, “Sorry…”  She apologised with the same smile, “I’d be the flame and would heat up their torches.”  She gave Llewellyn a wink and he laughed, the whole room erupting with cheers and laughter. 

“I’ll know not to play with you, sweet lady!”  Llewellyn said and she leaned back in her chair.

“ANOTHER!”  She said smashing the cup and leaving a pouch of coins on the table for Jee-Tah to collect. 

“I’m not going to have any cups left…” Saadia laughed.

“They make them special for this.”  Farkas said.

“Oh, really?”  She asked.

“Cheap and easy to break down to make more mugs for smashing.”  He smashed his own mug along with everyone else.  “Jee-Tah will make a profit for his pockets from this!”

“Good.”  Saadia answered. 

“Gunjar, fine man!”  Llewellyn continued, “If all the young girls were like mares in the stable…”

Gunjar laughed, clearly impressed that the bard had chosen horses for him.

“I'd be a stallion and show them I'm able!”  He answered, laughing; this was clearly something he had seen people do before but had never been including in, because he was a servant. 

“Camilla, lovely lass!  If all the young laddies were waves in the sea….”

“Um…”  She thought for a moment, “I’d stand on the shoreline and let them pound me.”  She said with a raunchy voice, Faendal’s hand going from her waist upwards, his eyes on her face. 

“Torvar!”  Llewellyn called out.

“He’s done for!”  Farkas laughed, and everyone noticed the passed out whelp.

“Not Torvar!”  Llewellyn said, “Looks like it’s your turn Farkas!” 

Farkas nodded and Llewellyn considered for a moment.

“If all the young ladies were winds of the sea…”  He sang.

“Then I’d unfurl my sails and ask them to blow me.”  Farkas sang bawdily, getting an appreciative laugh from Vilkas, all the men cheering that, Saadia laughing but shaking her head at him.

“Saadia!”  Llewellyn said, “Thane of Whiterun, Thane of Falkreath, Dragonborn, Companion… the lady who gives me gainful employment…”  Everyone laughed as the bard considered what best to say.  “If all them young pups were wolves when full grown…” He sang and Saadia narrowed her eyes in thought.  Wolves; he couldn’t have chosen a better topic.  She laughed slightly as she came up with an idea.

“I’d let them all know just where to bury their bone.”  She sang back, Farkas and Vilkas both turning to look at her, Farkas pulling her to him. 

“I know where to bury my bone.”  He said kissing her neck messily.  She laughed and every one was laughing along.  She drank some mead, Farkas downing his in a long gulp again.

“You sing beautifully.”  Vilkas said softly to her, his voice slightly slurred with alcohol.  She turned to look at him, not sure what to say.

“Vilkas!”  The bard said loudly, “If all the young ladies were singing this song…”

“It would be twice as bawdy, and six times as long!”  Vilkas sang back getting roars of approving laughter. 

“Too true!”  Llewellyn agreed and turned at last to Rayya.

“And Rayya, if all the young laddies were singing this song…”

“It'd be over too quick and be half as long...”  Rayya answered as quick as a whip.  There was a moment of stunned silence before all the women broke out into laughter, the men rolling their eyes in a good-natured pretence of hurt feelings, eventually breaking out into laughter too. 

“To all the young laddies here's a word to the wise,” Llewellyn sang, “The lasses love tickling but what matters is size.”  There was bawdy laughter, smashed cups and cheers in response, “To all the young lasses here’s something too true - the laddies’ll chase ye, no matter what you do!” 

More laughter and cheers, more food, more drink.

The singing lasted for many more hours, eventually everyone was falling asleep in their seats, and no one seemed to mind one bit; everyone was too drunk to care. 

 

***

 

Vilkas could feel the warmth of a woman, could feel the fuzziness of his head; he was still ever so slightly drunk.  He tried to think of the events that had led to him lying in bed with a woman… but he couldn’t remember a thing.  He sighed softly to himself and felt her breath on his face.

She smelled good.

And then he recognised her smell through his post-drunk fog.

His eyes shot open and he saw her, lying there, fast asleep, her fingers curled through his, her legs tangled with his, her face peaceful, so close…

Vilkas stared at Saadia, so close he couldn’t take in all of her face.  Last night started coming back to him in small snippets, as he noticed the scar in her eyebrow, the length of her eyelashes, the fullness of her lips. 

He found his eyes on her mouth.  And in a flash, he knew what he could no longer deny, what he’d known all along but had been ignoring, denying, repressing.  His eyes travelled slowly up her face to her closed eyes, his face slowly, subconsciously, moving closer to hers.  Her fingers twitched and then closed around his even tighter.

And then he heard Farkas groan in his sleep, saw movement; Farkas’s arm was draped over her waist, his hand moved up to her breast.  He was curled around her as close as possible, his face buried in her lose hair.

Vilkas realised how much closer he’d gotten to her and pulled away.  But he couldn’t go far; someone was wedged against his back. 

His sudden movement made her breathing flutter, waking her.  She opened her eyes.  And he was looking into her eyes; one sky blue, one amber yellow.  Looking at him.

“Hi.”  She said softly.  Her fingers unlaced from his and she felt the hand on her breast.  She knew from feel it was Farkas and she left this hand there, dropping her hand back to where it was, but not curling her fingers back through his. 

“Hi.”  He answered softly. 

She smiled at him and he couldn’t help but smile back.

“Bet you never thought you’d wake up next to me.”  She whispered, teasing.

“You’re right.”  He answered, still smiling at her.

“I’m always right.”  She answered.

“A lot of the time you are.”  He said and she cocked an eyebrow at him.

“Where’s the stubborn Nord gone?”  She asked with an amused smile.

“I’m still slightly drunk.”  He confessed and she chuckled softly. 

“That was the first time I’ve ever been drunk.”  She gave him a confession in return.

“Truly?”  He was surprised, “You handle your alcohol well.” 

“Well I had to keep up with you.”  She said.

“As in general, everyone, not…”

“No I mean you specifically this time.”  She corrected with a glint in her eye, “I had to at least be equal with you if I couldn’t beat you.” 

“Proud stubborn Redguard, Nord of a woman.”  He answered, “Must everything be a competition?”  He asked, thoroughly enjoying this.

“When it comes to you?”  She asked and he chuckled.  “Th-”

But Farkas groaned again, his hand travelling down her body, pulling her closer to him, he started to kiss her neck, his eyes closed, his nostrils filled with the smell of her. 

“I hope you sweat a lot last night woman, I want to taste your sweat and kunte juices.”  He whispered to her.  Her eyes met Vilkas’s as Farkas spoke in a mumbled whisper.  “Then I’m going to put my cock so deep in your kunte and arse, you’ll taste it.”  He said, his hand groping her kunte.  Saadia chuckled at Farkas, who was also still slightly drunk.  Vilkas held her gaze, as she spoke to Farkas behind her.

“There’s other people in the bed with us.”  She told him gently. 

“We’ll be real quiet.”  Farkas returned, his face still buried in her neck, and she chuckled again. 

“Your brother is awake.”  She broke the news to him.  Farkas groaned and Vilkas started to laugh, finding the humour in this moment somehow. 

“Ugh.”  Farkas said and rolled to flop onto his back-

Only to fall onto the floor with a loud crash, Saadia gasping in shock before breaking out into laughter when she turned to see him on the floor; he’d been right on the edge of the bed. 

He looked up at her with bleary eyes.

“Your bed isn’t big enough.”  He complained. 

Vilkas looked over his shoulder to see Njada, Aela and Skjor spooning, still unconscious, except for Aela who was glaring at him.  He leaned over Saadia to look at his brother.

“There was 6 of us in the bed.”  He said and Farkas shrugged.

“If I want a 7-person orgy, it’s useless.”  He answered making Saadia laugh.  Vilkas ignored his brother’s quip.

“How did we end up here?”  Vilkas asked, “I have no memory of it.”

Farkas stared at the ceiling for a moment, Saadia tried to remember.

“Saadia suggested it would be more comfortable here for anyone still awake enough to make it up the stairs.”  Aela answered, “Now shut up so I can sleep more.” 

“I might go to the lake for a swim.”  Saadia said, “You both want to come with?”

“Sure.”  Farkas said, “But… later…?”  He said with a smutty grin.

“We have a date for tonight.”  She reassured him.  She turned to Vilkas, awaiting his answer.

“I’ll go-” Saadia noticed that he stopped himself mid-sentence, but he acted like that was all he had intended to say, so she left it at that and they all headed downstairs.

It looked like utter carnage downstairs, people were asleep all over the place.  But there was no sign of all the smashed cups; Jee-Tah had cleaned them all up silently while everyone slept. 

They headed outside in the very early dawn, no one else was awake yet.  Saadia stripped her tunic off and dived into the cool water, completely naked.  Farkas joined her and Vilkas waded in to waist deep, cupping the clear water up to his mouth to drink, but going no deeper. 

The three of them laughed and joked, splashing water on each other, Saadia and Farkas swimming around Vilkas who stayed standing no deeper than low chest height in the water. 

It was about an hour when others started to wake up and join them in the lake to refresh themselves.  Rayya and Lydia kept the children inside while the adults pulled themselves back into some semblance of normal after the big night they’d had. 

When they headed back up to the house, Jee-Tah had a full and hearty breakfast waiting for everyone, and the children came back in. 

It was a loud and fun breakfast.

It was sad when everyone started to head out for home.  Camilla and Saadia had to turn their attention to Lucia’s tutor; they had interviews for her position in the afternoon, and Lucia was to have a say in the decision. 

The house slowly returned to normal throughout the day, but Saadia knew she’d have to have another one of these feasts soon; they were so much fun!

 

 


	16. Part 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i've been back in hospital this week for 2 nights with lung failure - partially collapsed left lung, pleural effusion in the right lung, oxygen tank for me! yay! ugh.  
> anyway i'm back home now, but if i fail to update next week it's because i'm back in hospital and i apologise in advance. hopefully i won't be back in hospital because i hate hospital! 
> 
> i hope you all enjoy this installment - let me know what you think! 
> 
> and thank you for reading!!

“It’s a miracle!”  Danica said, “Kynareth has blessed us.” 

Saadia sat down in the park and looked at the huge Gildergreen, spontaneously breaking out into flower, new green leaves growing on the once burned and damaged parts of the tree.

“The seedling has given her back life!”  Danica continued, “And the seedling grows still!  We will have two trees in Whiterun; we are doubly blessed by Kyne!”  She put her hand on the tree trunk and Saadia saw the tears on her cheeks.  “Once the Jarl decides where to plant the seedling, she will grow to be another mighty tree.” 

“I’m glad it all worked out so well.”  Saadia answered, enjoying the tranquillity of the tree and the park. 

She had gone to Jorrvaskr, but Vilkas, Farkas and Aela were out killing a herd of wild mammoth that had taken up residence near the road between Whiterun and Riverwood.  They were expected back soon, but given what a beautiful day it was she decided to wait for them outside. 

Heimskr, the priest of Talos, came out and polished the shrine to Talos.  He knelt and looked up at the statue, his hands held up, deep in prayer.  Saadia sighed.  It had been so nice when he wasn’t out here.  She wondered what he had been like before Talos worship had been outlawed; had he been so… annoying, back when he was allowed his religion? 

She felt that it said a lot about Whiterun that he was permitted to worship and preach openly, but Jarl Balgruuf continued to not take sides in the civil war and would not allow either side to garrison troops on his lands.  Balgruuf didn’t agree with the outlawing of Talos worship, but he also didn’t completely agree with the Stormcloaks.  And always; Whiterun and its citizens came first.  He was a good leader. 

Farkas sat down beside her with a huge grin on his face.  He handed her a mammoth tusk.

“Got the job done then?”  She said as Vilkas sat down on the other side of her, Aela sitting next to him.

“It was an excellent hunt sister, wish you had been there with us.”  Aela answered.

“Yeah, it’s been too long since I’ve been out with you sister.”  Saadia agreed.

“Well Skjor thinks he knows where another shard of Wuuthrad is.”  Vilkas said, “In a huge Silver-Hand camp in some old ruins in the mountains.” 

“We should all go.”  Saadia said.

“It’ll take all 4 of us.”  Vilkas agreed. 

“We should go-”  Aela began.

“To you we give Praise!”  Heimskr suddenly cried out at the top of his lungs, yelling to the statue.  Aela looked at Heimskr, thoroughly unimpressed.  “We are but maggots writhing in the filth of our own corruption!”  He said as he turned to preach to the people of Whiterun.

“Every damned day.”  Aela grumbled.  Every day Heimskr would get out the front of the shrine and statue of Talos and scream his sermon out. 

“Kind of ruins the nice mood of the park.”  Saadia agreed with Aela’s grumble.

“While you have ascended from the dung of mortality, and now walk among the stars!”  Heimskr said and Vilkas lowered his eyes, “But you were once man!  Aye!  And as man you said, 'Let me show you the power of Talos, Stormcrown, born of the North, where my breath is long winter.  I breathe now in royalty and reshape this land which is mine.  I do this for you, Red Legions, for I love you.'  Aye, love!”  He declared rapturously, “Love!”

“Did you ever think of just sneaking into his house at night time and slitting his throat?”  Aela asked and Vilkas gave her a dirty look.

“He’s just worshipping Talos.”  Vilkas said, “As I do.”  He added. 

“I don’t recall you screaming across Whiterun about us being maggots.”  Aela retorted. 

“Even as man, great Talos cherished us.  For he saw in us, in each of us, the future of Skyrim!  The future of Tamriel!”

“Maybe just behead him in the town centre.  No one would mind.”  Farkas said and there was a moment of silence, everyone looking at him in surprise.  Aela and Saadia started to laughed while Vilkas stared at his brother in shock.

“Farkas!”  He said in a surprised voice.

“Maybe poison that damn shrine he jacks off on so often.”  Saadia added. 

“Death through poisoned dick.”  Farkas said laughing.  Vilkas shook his head again.

“And there it is, friends!  The ugly truth!  We are the children of man!  Talos is the true God of man!  Ascended from flesh, to rule the realm of spirit!”  Heimskr yelled out on the top of his lungs. 

“I could probably hit him in the eye with an arrow shot from Jorrvaskr…”  Aela considered. 

“The very idea is inconceivable to our Elven overlords!  Sharing the heavens with us?  With man?  Ha!  They can barely tolerate our presence on earth!”  His voice was hoarse from the effort of yelling, mixed with his passion for Talos.

“Ancient Nords seemed to like elaborate traps.”  Saadia said, “Maybe we can put in some sort of trap system that gets him when he gets close to the shrine…”  

“Today, they take away your faith.  But what of tomorrow?  What then?  Do the Elves take your homes?  Your businesses?  Your children?  Your very lives?”  He asked dramatically, trying to incite fear in the people listening, “And what does the Empire do?  Nothing!  Nay, worse than nothing!  The Imperial machine enforces the will of the Thalmor!  Against its own people!”  He declared angrily, “So rise up!  Rise up, children of the Empire!  Rise up, Stormcloaks!”

“We could just set him on fire.”  Vilkas gave in and the other three paused, staring at him and then laughed. 

“What happened to respecting the worship of Talos?”  Saadia teased, “What happened to your faith?”

“I love Talos.”  Vilkas said, “I will always worship Talos… But this guy…”  He shook his head, “He forces his faith on others… he incites war that will lead to the death of millions.”  He shook his head, “And he’s giving me a headache.”

“Embrace the word of mighty Talos, he who is both man and Divine!”  Heimskr shouted.

“Both man and Divine.”  Vilkas repeated softly and lowered his eyes.  Aela gave him a look and left him to his prayer looking over his lowered head to Saadia.

“Traps have too much collateral damage.”  Aela said, “Your hammer could be useful.”

“True.”  Saadia nodded.

“For we are the children of man!  And we shall inherit the heavens and earth!  And we, not the Elves or their toadies, will rule Skyrim!  Forever!”  Heimskr kneeled before the statue again, praying with feverish reverence. 

“Well now that his sermon is over for now…”  Aela said, “I was thinking we should head off tomorrow morning.”

“I can make myself available.”  Saadia answered, deciding to leave Tarryn at home for this one; she was sure this was going to be a brutal battle.

“Yes I’m free.”  Vilkas said as he got up and went to the shrine. 

“I do as I’m told.”  Farkas said with a shrug, all three of them watching Vilkas touch the shrine to Talos gently, and then kneel, his head in prayer. 

“This stuff means a lot to him huh?”  Saadia said softly.

“You have no idea… Dragonborn.”  Aela said pointedly.  Saadia looked at Aela and she shrugged, “He’s thinks you’re a kind of God… a Demi-God or something.”  She shook her head, “I don’t know.  I’m only interested in Hircine.” 

“Maybe I haven’t respected his faith enough?”  Saadia asked.  It was strange to see him praying. 

“I think it’s hard to respect a faith that worships you.”  Aela answered. 

“He doesn’t worship her.”  Farkas said uneasily, “He just understands how important the whole Dragonborn thing is.”

Saadia sighed and got up, walking to the shrine and looking up at the likeness of Talos. 

Was he an ancient ancestor of hers?  This Nord man that had united Tamriel and been raised to the status of God by the other Divines?  And how could she talk to Vilkas about this?  So far she hadn’t been taking it very seriously… But he was.

She put her hand on the shrine and felt an odd power.  Vilkas and Heimskr looked up at her, hearing the electricity crackle from the shrine to her hands. 

“Talos blesses her!”  Heimskr said in awe.  

Saadia could feel the power surging through her and she looked at her hand.  The electricity crackled purple in her hand, spreading through her body, Farkas and Aela standing up too as the intensity of the purple light grew and enveloped her momentarily, dropping her to her knees.  Vilkas stood up, staring at her in awe as the purple light swept around her, imbuing her with a power, and she could feel all the Words of Power she knew growing stronger somehow. 

“A BLESSING FROM TALOS!”  Heimskr cried rapturously.  “TALOS BLESSES THE DRAGONBORN!  OUR VERY OWN THANE!”

The purple light faded and Saadia stood, feeling strangely powerful, staring at the shrine to Talos, not sure what to think. 

“That’s 3 Gods you’ve got on your side now.”  Vilkas said softly. 

 

***

 

Saadia felt a strange sense of trepidation when they set off the next morning; the Silver-Hand camp was in the Jerall Mountains.

It had been a later start than expected because Kodlak had been fascinated by the tale of Saadia’s blessing from Talos and had wanted to research what the blessing might be.  The old man couldn’t find what he was after, and in the end Skjor had intervened and told them to go, reminding Kodlak that the Companions had more to think about than just the Dragonborn.  She was thankful for his frank pragmatism. 

They ended up leaving after lunch on the 4-hour journey to the foothills of the Jeralls.  Exactly where in the Jerall Mountains the camp was, was not known because the Silver-Hand moved around often, wanting to stay ahead of the Circle. 

When they got to the foothills of the mountains, they decided it would be better to camp overnight, and tackle the task of climbing into the mountains and finding the camp, tomorrow, with a full day of light. 

Saadia and Aela were sent to hunt food while the men set up the campsite. 

“Lots of rabbit here.”  Aela noted, “I feel like rabbit.” 

“Alright…”  Saadia said slowly, remembering every hunter she’d ever seen hunting a rabbit; it seemed like an intense battle between hunter and rabbit.  ‘You don’t like rabbit?”  Aela caught the tone in her voice.

“No… I’ve just never hunted rabbit before.” 

“It couldn’t be simpler.”  Aela said, taking her bow from her back. 

They crept through the undergrowth, looking for rabbits to kill.  When Saadia saw one she pursed her lips and drew her bow, ready for the battle that would inevitably follow. 

She led the target slightly; something Aela had taught her, she took aim, took a breath, and let loose her arrow. 

Thwok.

She hit the rabbit straight through the head.

And it died instantly. 

Saadia thought about all the hunters she’s seen hunting rabbits again.

“Not so tough after all…”  She mumbled to herself as she went over to the rabbit to retrieve its body.  She wondered what the hunters had found so difficult about killing these little things… except that they were kind of cute.  She furrowed her brows and put it in the sack Aela had given her, and continued her hunt. 

When they returned to the men, they had set up a fire in a shallow cave, far enough from the entrance to hide the light of the fire, but close enough for them to all be able to guard the entrance while still in front of the fire. 

Aela tossed the bags of food to Vilkas and Farkas and sat down to make herself some more arrows.  Saadia helped the brothers prepare the meat to be cooked over the fire, thinking Tarryn and Meeko would have loved all the blood and guts; they loved raw meat and offal.  But she was glad she hadn’t brought the cub with her; she was heavy now, and big, but still too young to go into battle. 

They ate, talking merrily about Jorrvaskr and the whelps, but Saadia was deep in thought.  The Jeralls and her had history. 

“You’re quiet.”  Vilkas said after a while of her hardly speaking, even as they laughed about various happenings in Whiterun. 

“I was captured not far from here.”  Saadia answered.  She could feel all their eyes on her and she sighed.  “The Imperials caught me crossing the border illegally.  They took me to Helgen to be executed.”  She explained. 

“You don’t really talk about that.”  Farkas said softly. 

“No I don’t.”  She agreed.  “It was… such a difficult time.”

“What happened sister?”  Aela asked and Saadia looked up at her. 

“I had to get away from there.”  She said, “I had to.”  She swallowed hard and looked down at her food, “I have to go back for them.” 

“We’ll go with you.”  Aela said and the brothers agreed, “Tell us what we’re up against.” 

“I was born on the Isle of Stirk.”  She said simply, “Most people know it as a pirate’s den… lots of bandits and generally bad people.  My father saw it as an opportunity to create his own Utopian society… to live the way he thought man should live.”  She was silent for a moment, trying not to feel their eyes on her.  She noticed Vilkas look down and was grateful he wasn’t staring at her anymore.  She didn’t like to be looked at when things hurt.  But she could see the concern in Aela and Farkas’s eyes; she could not be mad at them for looking at her. 

“I hear Stirk is a bad place.”  Vilkas said gently. 

“Yes, I can imagine what kind of man chooses to make that his home.”  Aela agreed.

“Perhaps.”  Saadia answered.  “My father is a Nord man.”  She said, “Tall, strong, broad shoulders, blond hair, blue eyes, big beard, handsome… the epitome of a perfect Nord man…”  She was silent for a moment, “And he believed that women should be servants to men… to be their property.”

“We had traditions like that in the past.”  Vilkas said, “Not all of them have died out.”

“But they will.”  Aela said firmly. 

“Agreed.”  Vilkas said. 

“Well he thought they needed to be brought back, to be made stronger… he…” She didn’t know where to start.  “He had hundreds of wives – all of them abducted from all over Tamriel.”

“By Ysgramor.”  Aela sounded disgusted. 

“Hundreds of women?”  Farkas asked, the scale of such a thing staggering him. 

“More… And thousands of children.”  Saadia said.  “My mother was taken from Hammerfell when she was 13… he bedded her the night she came to Stirk.”

“By Hircine, I’ll kill him.”  Aela whispered.  Saadia didn’t notice that Vilkas had looked back up at her; she was too lost in her story now, in finally getting it all out. 

“That’s what he was like; he had them abducted young so they were more compliant.  It’s a terrible life for them.  They’re locked in the inner chambers of his castle, and they never get to see the outside world again.”  She said.  “And his children… Well we got to live an easy life at first.  There was education from tutors, training in martial arts from the brothers and Shield-maidens, of course… and we had the run of our tower, no one was allowed in his wing of the castle of course.  And life was good.  Until the boys were 13, and the girls had their first menses.” 

“You were 11.”  Vilkas remembered.

“Yes.”  Saadia nodded.  “The boys were taken to be trained to be my father’s personal army; they keep Stirk under his command, and keep the pirates and bandits away from the castle, and keep the trading ships coming.”  Saadia explained.  “The girls…”  She paused and sighed, “We’d get lined up, and he would decide which of us were beauties, and which of us were to be Shield-maidens.  The beauties were taken away to the inner chambers of the castle where no man but he could see them.  And he trained them in the arts of pleasing men.”

“What?”  Farkas asked, his lip curled in disgust.

“I believe he sold them as virgins.”  Saadia understood what they had thought, “But they were taught how to sexually please men, how to visually appeal to them… there were these brutal corsets… I remember seeing the beauties crying as the mothers squeezed them into them.  Men like slender women, fair women, graceful women, silent women, women whose only pleasure in sex was to give men pleasure, women who obey without question, who keep their eyes lowered in the presence of their superiors… And then after 2 years of training, they were sold to the highest bidder… Marketed as the perfect wife.”

“I am definitely going to kill him.”  Aela said, shaking her head, “And he did this to you?”  She said, outraged.

“No.”  Saadia answered, “I wasn’t beautiful enough.”  She looked down at her hands, “It’s ridiculous how much that hurts, when in comparison I had a better life.  I learned how to fight.  I became a Shield-maiden, forever to be a virgin in the presence of superior women whom I must protect with my life.”  She said, “It was my job to ensure that no one ever got to the inner chambers.  Shield-maidens served him by protecting the castle; he would suffer no male soldiers in his castle.”

“Your father thought you were ugly?”  Farkas asked, amazed by that.

“I don’t think that’s the most relevant point right now.”  Aela answered.  “Go on Shield-sister.  If you wish.” 

“On my first night, I was beaten until unconsciousness… and I awoke to being stabbed with a spear, to be taught how to take pain.  That was the kindest day of my training.”  She said thoughtfully.  “Eventually they turned me into a trainer… and I tortured little girls into not showing pain.”  She said with deep shame, “And I beheaded them when they did.”  Her jaw set, a tear fell from her eye and she looked away.  “Shield-maidens lives are not worth much.”  She said softly.

There was a silence while they all wrapped their heads around that, Aela staring into the fire, Farkas and Vilkas both staring at Saadia.  Both brothers could see her shame, and both of them made a note to help her overcome this shame when they had the chance. 

“I used to sneak into my father’s library… he had shelves and shelves of books… and I loved the stories.  I rarely read any of the histories or anything educational.  Which I regret now… but the stories were what kept me sane.”  She said softly, “And then one night my father came into the library when I was in there.  He would have killed me had he found me.  I was no daughter of his; I was too ugly to be of his loins.”  She said with no emotion.  “I accidentally found a small passageway out of the library in my attempts to hide from him.  It led out of the castle… to a small town.”  She smiled in memory.  “I heard the sailors singing songs about bedding wenches.”  She said, “I peeked in the window of the inn and watched for hours.  I was lucky this was an inn for the sailors that brought goods to the island, rather than a place for the bandits or pirates… I don’t want to think how things would have turned out if…”  Her smile faded, “One of the men came out to pee and he saw me.  He knew what I was, knew my father would kill me.  He grabbed me and said if I didn’t bend over for him he’d turn me in.”

“I’ll kill him as well.”  Aela said fiercely, protectively.

“I killed him.”  Saadia said with a shrug.  “I may have been an innocent who had lived her whole life in the walls of a castle… but one thing I did know, was how to kill someone.” 

“Good.”  Farkas said and Vilkas and Aela agreed with him. 

“I went into the inn after that.  I don’t know why.  Foolish thing to do… but something had awoken in me; I wanted off that island.”

“So you used the sailors to get you off?”  Aela nodded, “Good thinking.”

“I had sex for the first time that night.  I was 27.” 

All three of them tried not to open their eyes wide in surprise. 

“Over the next few months I slept with as many sailors as I could, which unfortunately wasn’t that many, until one of them took a real liking to me; I suppose he may have loved me.”  She said guiltily, “And I used that against him… I used it to make him smuggle me off the island.”

“You did what you had to.”  Farkas answered the emotion in her voice. 

“I don’t know if he’s still alive.”  She said, “Somehow my brothers found out, and they chased down his ship, blasting it out of the ocean.  I managed to come ashore in Cyrodiil.  I was nearly caught, a bear trap got me, even as my brothers came ashore in search of me.”  She said, “And an old woman smuggled me away, healed me, gave me Kynareth’s Kiss and told me to head to Skyrim; she called me Dovahkiin… long before I even knew what that meant.  Long before I even knew Dragons really existed.” 

“Perhaps it was Kynareth that saved you?”  Farkas asked.

“The Gods are thought to be restricted to their domains.”  Vilkas answered, “They were weakened by making Mundus.”  He explained, “But whoever she was, she was guided by the Gods.” 

“Not everything is guided by the Gods.”  Aela countered.

“What happened then?”  Farkas asked. 

“I got caught crossing the border.  I was about to be executed when Alduin came and destroyed Helgen.”  Saadia answered.  “It was horrific.” 

“And now you kill Dragons easily.”  Farkas said.

“I wouldn’t say it’s easy.”  Saadia answered.  “Some are easier than others, but they’re all a challenge in their own way.”

“I would love to kill a Dragon.”  Farkas said.

“Yes.”  Aela nodded.  Saadia looked at Vilkas, and he shrugged and looked at the fire. 

“Tell me your life story, sister.”  Saadia said and Aela shrugged.

“There is not much to tell.  My mother was a Companion, and her mother, and all the women in my family, back to Hrotti Blackblade.”  She said, “I stayed with my father in the woods until I was old enough for my Trial.  We hunted everything there was to hunt... Good training.”  She said with a reminiscing smile, “Ma didn't live long enough to see me join, but I fight to honour her and all my Shield-Sisters through time.”

“A good reason to fight.”  Vilkas answered and she nodded her head. 

“Did you know?  Before you joined?”  Saadia asked.

“Of the Beastblood?”  Aela clarified.  Saadia nodded in response.  “I did.”  She said, “I was aware of Hircine’s gift, and the power it would give me.  I welcomed it.” 

“Was it what you expected?”  Saadia asked and Aela narrowed her eyes in thought.  Vilkas cleared his throat and Aela turned his eyes to him.  Saadia knew there was a silent conversation happening between them; but she couldn’t tell what it was that passed between them. 

“It was more.”  Aela said slowly and Vilkas made a soft noise of annoyance and looked down to the fire.  “If the truth is told Shield-sister, it was far better than I have ever imagined.  The strength and power… it’s phenomenal.”  Farkas shifted uncomfortably, his eyes watching Saadia’s face closely.  “You couldn’t understand unless you had it…” She leaned forward towards Saadia, clearly inviting her to become a werewolf, but not using the words; the brothers were watching. 

“You only speak of the positives.”  Saadia said and Vilkas gave her an approving look; she was thinking it through carefully, “You speak as though there are no negatives.”

“There aren’t.”  Aela answered simply.

“What about when the wolf wants something you don’t?”  Saadia asked, thinking about Vilkas’s struggles with his wolf; hunting, breeding… 

“That can be difficult.”  Aela conceded, “But it doesn’t happen that often.”  She said, “Usually the wolf is right, and in sync within you.  I have found that the wolf most often simply reveals what is deep within my soul, that perhaps I wasn’t consciously aware of.”  She continued and Saadia could see she was being honest. 

She looked over to Farkas and Vilkas.  Farkas was nodding slightly and Vilkas was staring at the fire with a stony expression.  She knew Vilkas struggled the most with the wolf; she suspected it wasn’t in sync with him and this might be the cause of his troubles.  And he had said that denying the wolf knocked him about.  She felt that maybe Vilkas caused a lot of his troubles with the Beastblood himself; by trying to deny it.  She understood that the urge to hunt and breed had to be controlled, obviously Aela, Skjor, Farkas and Kodlak all did that without the same level of effort Vilkas had to put into it.  Perhaps Vilkas’s repression was the cause of all his problems…?  Saadia tipped her head to the side and wondered about the Beastblood – was it really that bad?”

“Honestly sister, I have found very little negative effect of the Beastblood.”  Aela concluded. 

“That is because you revel in Hircine’s hunt.”  Vilkas countered softly, confirming Saadia’s thoughts. 

“Yes I do.”  Aela answered, “And I acknowledge the Divines too.”  She said, “I do not hold them above Hircine.  Even though they have not blessed us as he has!”

Saadia saw Vilkas suck his teeth momentarily and it suddenly struck her that the religious differences between Vilkas and Aela were marked.  And that Vilkas had been quite moved by Llewellyn’s ballades, seemingly understanding what it felt like to love a woman with different religious beliefs, a woman that he thought to be better than him.  Her eyes opened wider as she looked at Vilkas looking at Aela across the fire.  He was obviously choosing his words carefully and Saadia became more convinced that Vilkas had feelings for Aela.

“I do not wish to argue with you about this Shield-sister.”  He said firmly, “You know my views, and you know Kodlak’s views.”  He said that pointedly and Aela’s eyes flicked to Saadia before returning to him.

“Of course, Shield-brother.”  She said and ate some meat as if to show she would say no more.

“Religion and faith should not be turned into arguments or wars.”  He said.

“You’re right.”  She said, far more sincere this time. 

“Pity Skyrim’s at war because of religion.”  Saadia said, helping them change the topic.

“It’s not our business.”  Aela shrugged, “I mean, I hate that those snowberries get to fight and we don’t.  But Kodlak’s right that we should sit this one out.” 

“But if you had to choose,” Saadia asked because she had the feeling that one day she’d be forced to choose, “Which side would you all choose?”

She saw both Farkas and Aela look to Vilkas.  Saadia had expected Farkas to do that, but Aela doing it was surprising; she was a woman who wasn’t afraid to speak her mind. 

“The Companions stay out of politics.”  Vilkas said, “There are always good reasons to fight.  I just wish this war had them.”  He picked at the meat on the bone he was holding, “Who cares who worships what dead God?  Give me something to make me draw my sword.”

“But you worship Talos.”  Saadia said. 

“Yes.”  He answered, “A man with the blessings of the Divines who was made Divine when he died – a dead God.  I do not care who else does or does not worship him.”  He said passionately, “My faith is mine alone, my prayers are mine.  No one can take them from me.” 

“Faith should not become a war.”  Saadia quoted him and he nodded.

“Many of the Companions would choose the Stormcloaks,”  Vilkas noted, “and I understand that; no one should try to change our religion and Nords are staunchly Talos worshippers.”

“Even I love the old guy.”  Aela acknowledged. 

“But I am of the belief that a true Nord never turns his back on his friends, his allies.  Who are we as men and women if we turn our backs on the Empire we have been friends with and supported for so long.  An Empire that Talos himself created?  Who are we, what are we, if we turn our backs when things get hard?”  He asked, “So if forced to choose, I would choose the Empire every time.  And I would remember, that no one can take my faith from me.”

“Your faith only really grew strong in the past few months anyway.”  Farkas said and Vilkas nodded reluctantly.

“Having proof of the Divine does tend to reignite one’s faith.”  He admitted.

“That’s you.”  Aela said to Saadia with a clear air of amusement.  “You’re the proof.”  Vilkas sighed and Aela chuckled. 

“I didn’t really believe until I actually met Kynareth.”  Saadia said with a shrug, “And I’ve been blessed by the Gods… 3 of them now… and I still don’t worship them or… I guess I don’t know what I believe about them.” 

“They bless you and you don’t believe they are Gods.”  Aela was both amused and fascinated by the way Saadia thought. 

“Perhaps they are just another species with different skills to our species.”  Saadia said, “I am thankful for their help and guidance.  But worship?  I don’t know.”

“Perhaps a future God shouldn’t worship her peers.”  Aela said, her eyes on Vilkas, teasing him.  He sighed and stabbed the fire with a stick, refusing to take the bait. 

“Who’s side do you take?”  Saadia asked Aela, ignoring the tease as well.

“Empire.”  She said, “My gut reaction at first was go Stormcloak, as they fight for all Nords and Skyrim.  But Vilkas actually makes sense, for once; he’s right about this war on 2 counts.  First that fighting over faith is foolish; we all have differences in faith, even those of us that believe in the same Divines will place greater emphasis on some more than others.  And second… in the Companions, we have each other’s backs no matter what.  Our vows to each other, our word, is our worth.  We as a country, gave our word to the Empire.  And while I do not worship Talos as I worship Hircine… I do believe he would want us to remain part of the Empire.”  She turned her eyes to Farkas, an amused look on her face.

“Oh I don’t care.  I’ll go where Vilkas goes; just show me what to kill.”  He shrugged.  “What about you?”

“I don’t know.”  She said, “I can see both sides.  And honestly the Legion army is very aggressive and controlling of Skyrim’s citizens...”

“I didn’t say they were perfect.”  Vilkas said.  “We shouldn’t have surrendered to the Aldmeri Dominion, or made any peace treaties with them.  And they are over-aggressive at trying to keep Skyrim because they lost Hammerfell.” 

“And they tried to execute me…”  She said but Vilkas looked like he had just realised something.  “What?”

“That’s why you’re half Nord, half Redguard…”  He said in awe, “Because these are the two parts of the Empire that are its strongest and that were the worst hit by the peace treaty.  You’ll bring Hammerfell back to the Empire and you’ll keep Skyrim in it; protecting your ancestor’s legacy.”  He said with a sureness she didn’t think she deserved, given she hadn’t decided which side she was going to take yet. 

“She’s half Nord, half Redguard because her father raped her mother.”  Aela answered fiercely. “Not some horker shit fate you believe.”  Aela answered, “Not everything happens for a reason.”

“Of course.”  Vilkas lowered his eyes, clearly shaken by his own lack of empathy, Saadia could see him questioning himself silently. 

“You have an awful lot of faith in me.”  Saadia said, laughing uncomfortably. 

“It’s well placed.”  Farkas answered, Vilkas looking down and clearing his throat.  Saadia looked up at Aela who shrugged slightly, looking amused and ate another piece of meat. 

“I hope so.”  Saadia answered, not feeling anywhere as near sure of herself as the brothers seemed to be.

 

***

 

They had climbed through the mountains for hours, crossing the border back and forth multiple times, Saadia looking out for the old woman’s cottage but never seeing it… She could have sworn that it would be somewhere around here…

It had taken a few hours for them to find the first Silver-Hand camp.

“It’s not as big as we were expecting.”  Aela whispered. 

“They’ve probably spread themselves out over the mountains, so we have a harder time finding the shard.”  Saadia said and they all nodded in agreement. 

“They still outnumber us 10 to 1.”  Vilkas said, eyeing the camp carefully, looking for traps, for hidden fighters, unexpected things. 

“Easy.”  Saadia said.  They all looked at her and then shared a look with each other.  Saadia noticed and smiled sweetly, “If you 3 need to rest up here, I can take them out alone.” 

Aela laughed softly.

“I do like you sister!”  She said, “But nothing will stop me from slitting as many of their throats as I can.” 

“I bet I can do more than you.”  Farkas said softly. 

“You’re on.”  Aela said. 

“What does the winner get?”  Saadia asked.

“Respect.”  Aela answered.

“Bragging rights.”  Farkas added.

“I’ll have to get better at bragging then.”  Saadia answered and grinned at them devilishly as she took her dagger out.  “See you, losers.”  She said before Shouting, “WULD NAH!”  Whirlwind Sprinting towards the camp. 

The three of them stared in disbelief as she sprinted off at an inhumanly fast speed.

“That’s cheating!”  Vilkas called after her, laughing.  The three of them jumped down from their hiding place and ran after her as fast as they could. 

The Silver-Hand had heard Saadia’s Shout and the archers tried to take aim at her as she sprinted towards them, slashing two throats as she went past them and phenomenal speed.  They fell to the ground and Saadia was already well past them, putting her dagger away and pulling out her warhammer, pulling up in front of a group of archers and swinging her hammer at them brutally hard, fast without the weight of her armour to hold her back.

Farkas and Aela had both been on jobs with Saadia so had seen her fight before, but for Vilkas, it was the first time he had truly seen her in action.  They watched her as they ran towards the camp.

“She’ll be finished before we get there!”  Aela complained, laughing nonetheless.

Saadia ducked the dagger swipe of one archer, bringing her hammer up between his legs and then swinging it down on the back of his head when he doubled over in agony, clutching his shattered balls.  His skull broke and he was dead instantly, but Saadia was already swinging her hammer at the next archer, hitting them so hard in the neck that their neck broke, their head hanging at an obscene angle as they fell down the stairs. 

A swordsman came up and slammed his sword downward, but Saadia blocked him with the long handle of her warhammer, one hand holding the handle, the other holding the bloody hammer head.  He smashed it down again, but this time she twisted her hands, making the length of her warhammer handle act as a slide for his blade, the momentum of his movement sending him down after his blade.  Saadia slammed her elbow into his cheek, and saw another swordsman in her periphery, raising his sword to strike her.

Vilkas was about to call out a warning when a huge spurt of fire poured from her mouth, and the would-be surprise attacker was suddenly aflame, screaming, slapping at the flames.  Another 3 swordsmen came to attack her, so she elbowed the first guy again and swung her hammer at the man who was on fire, hitting him in the shoulder and sending him careening into 2 of the oncoming fighters.  They were bowled over, screaming as the devilish Dragon fire caught them and they too were in flames. 

Vilkas almost stopped running, just to watch her fight; she was impressive.  But he wanted to at least beat Aela and Farkas; there was no way he was beating her. 

Saadia headbutted the man in front of her, his head getting impaled on the horns of the Masque of Clavicus Vile, and then kicked the next guy in the stomach, sweeping his sword away with her hammer in the next movement.  She brought her hammer down on top of his head and then slammed the handle into the face of the woman who had tried to sneak up behind her, breaking her nose.  Saadia turned and headbutted her too, finishing the job. 

“YOL!”  She Shouted, taking out 2 archers on a ledge above her, and then headed up the stairs to get further into the camp.  And finally the brothers and Aela caught up with her.  “13.”  She said and they all headed deeper into the camp to finish off the rest of them. 

Over 2 dozen angry fighters stood, waiting for them.

Farkas held his greatsword up, Saadia, spun her warhammer, the hammerhead having a spiked side and a flat side.  Vilkas had bought a massive battle axe with two razor sharp blades and he eyed up their opponents silently.

Aela whipped out her bow and shot the closest women through the eye and laughed loudly when none of the Silver-Hand attacked in response.

“Do you wish to starve the ravens?”  She called out to them loudly; accusing them of cowardice. 

The chief of this camp ordered them to attack and the fight was on. 

Arrows flew through the air at them and Vilkas swiped his axe, knocking most of them out of the air, Aela, pulling her double swords out, took care of the rest, twirling her swords in her hands.

Vilkas laughed heartily, Farkas making a war-cry, Aela, had a grim smile, her eyes trained on the fighters running their way.  The way they loved battle make Saadia’s heart beat faster; she loved it.  She saw that battle was also the hunt for them; this was their wolves enjoying themselves.  This was also the Nord in them coming out; every Nord loved a good fight. 

Herself included.

“I go to Sovngarde!”  A man yelled as he threw himself at them suicidally, intending to draw all their attention away from the rest of his Silver-Hand friends behind him, weapons raised. 

Farkas hacked him down with little effort, Aela rushing forward to meet them, Vilkas following her.  Saadia let them have the lead this time; she already had quite a head start on them.  She watched her Shield-siblings fighting; Aela quick and nimble with her dual swords, Farkas like a sledge hammer, slamming into anyone that came near him, his sword beheading people with ease.  Vilkas was a very skilled fighter; Farkas had been right to say he was more skilled than Farkas.  She found him mesmerising to watch; all strength and graceful movements.  Vilkas handled his axe with skill and great economy of movement – he did nothing for show, everything was aimed at being as brutal and deadly as possible.  He killed opponents quickly, seeing their weakness easily, almost as if he were psychic.  And he zeroed in on their weaknesses with a single-minded brutality that she had never seen matched anywhere; except perhaps by her sister, her trainer on the Isle of Stirk. 

But the most impressive part was how well they worked together, the brothers best of all, but all three of them.  Aela would slice a throat and kick the next person into Farkas’s line of fire, he’d behead them without a second thought.  Farkas would stop a blow from hitting Vilkas and in the same moment, Vilkas would kill the person that had been about to take aim at Aela.  Saadia almost felt like she might mess up their rhythm if she got involved, until Vilkas smacked a man in the head with the handle of his axe, sending him careening towards Saadia.

“Some sport.”  He said to her with a grin.  His invitation for her to find her rhythm in theirs. 

The 4 of them quickly finished off the remaining Silver-Hand, but 3 of them broke ranks and ran for the cover of some alpine forest. 

“We can’t let them get away!”  Vilkas shouted, meaning for Aela to draw her bow.  They all knew that these fleeing Silver-Hand would be on their way to inform other camps nearby.  Aela growled with delight.  “No!”  Vilkas said but she turned, a howl ripping from her lungs as her fur sprouted.  And Saadia could feel the electric burst of bloodlust and joy – the sheer pleasure Aela got from this – rippling from her body.  She was a large, black werewolf with the same amber eyes Farkas had when he was a wolf, her nails and teeth long and savagely sharp. 

Aela turned to Saadia, made a soft barking noise, turned to the brothers and howled again.  Saadia saw the amber in both of their eyes; the howl called to them. 

Aela took off into the woods, fast on the heels of the fleeing Silver-Hand. 

Farkas started to turn.

“Brother no!”  Vilkas said, his voice thick with denying his own urge to turn. 

“We can’t let her go after them alone.”  Farkas said, “What if it’s a trap?”  And he turned, the huge grey-brown wolf Saadia had already seen, stood before them for a moment before chasing off after Aela and the Silver-Hand. 

Vilkas growled, breathing hard, his eyes amber, his hands balling into fists as he fought back his urge to turn. 

Saadia watched him, wishing she could run free with Aela and Farkas, wishing she could finish the job with them… wishing she could ease Vilkas’s suffering somehow. 

As soon as she saw that Vilkas was winning the fight with his wolf she went to him.

“I guess he doesn’t always just do as he’s told.”  She said and he nodded.

“He’s his own man.”  Vilkas agreed.  “I hope it wasn’t a trap.”  She could see more than just that worry on his brow.

“You won’t lose him to Hircine.”  She said softly, putting a hand on his arm.  He looked at her, searching her face for some sort of answer.

“Why are you not disgusted by us?”  He asked.

“Why are you not disgusted by me?”  She answered pointedly.  He made a disbelieving sound.

“Blessed by the Gods!”  Was all he could get out.

“Killer of children.”  She countered and he stopped still, looking at her, not sure what to say to that.  “I think you should really start seeing me for what I am.”  She said and turned away.  “And yourself.”  She added, “Let’s search the camp, see if they have the shard of Wuuthrad here… or if we have to keep searching.”  She said and started to search the bodies, her back to Vilkas.  He watched her for a moment, for the first time, his usually quick-thinking mind would give him no answer to this problem. 

He looked around and was about to start searching the bodies when he saw Silver-Hand fighters approaching; dozens of them.

“It was a trap…”  He said softly and Saadia looked up. 

A woman held her hand up and the Silver-Hand broke formation to form a ring around them; three people deep.  Saadia and Vilkas went back to back, watching all angles, weapons drawn. 

A large Orc woman stepped forward and looked them up and down.  She looked around at all the dead Silver-Hand and then looked back at them, Saadia was the closest to her and Saadia returned her steely gaze.

“I am going to kill everyone in Whiterun for what you have done here this day.”  She spat with venom.

“How can you attack Whiterun, when you’ll all be dead?”  Saadia responded.

“You cannot beat me, Hircine’s whore!”  The Orc answered with rage. 

“You know what?”  Saadia answered, “Being Hircine’s whore feels good – he fucks like a beast!” 

The orc roared in rage and slammed her warhammer down towards Saadia’s head.  Saadia raised her hammer to block the blow, then swept the feet of the slow-moving Orc with her feet, knocking her to her arse. 

She brought the sharp side of her hammer up, piercing the Orc’s throat near her chin.  Then Saadia pulled the hammer back, ripping the Orc’s jaw right off.  She screamed and writhed on the floor until Saadia brought her hammer down onto her head.

SPLAT.

Brains went everywhere and Saadia simply lifted her warhammer to rest the long handle on her shoulder, putting her foot on the Orc’s body, she looked at all the Silver-Hand watching. 

“Are you actually going to make me kill you all one on one, or can you save me some time and attack all at once?”  She asked, Vilkas quickly looking over his shoulder to see what was happening.  He’d heard that the battle had been easy, but he was impressed with her speed and brutality.  He had no time to think on it; the rest of the Silver-Hand fighters all attacked at once.

“YOL!”  Saadia Shouted and then the screaming began. 

She swept her hammer at the Silver-Hand closest to her that were not on fire, hitting 2 of them, the second one reeling backwards, knocking a few people off their feet. 

Vilkas swung his axe in a long sweeping motion across the necks of 3 Silver-Hands of similar height, sending 3 gouts of blood splashing all over him, and all over the other Silver-Hand as they spun and fell to the ground, their lives draining with their blood.  His axe finished its motion by slamming into the head of the fourth Silver-Hand in the line.  He pulled out his dagger, slammed it onto the eye of an attacker, pulled it out, tossed it up, pulled his axe out of the head of the fourth man, swung it double-handed back to behead first one then 2 Silver-Hands before it became embedded in the head of the third one, he finished the move by catching the dagger and stabbing it into the face of another attacker. 

Saadia brought her hammer down onto the skull of a Silver-Hand, then side-kicked another Silver-Hand in the jaw, and then when he doubled over, brought her foot down on him like an axe, slamming his face to the ground, stomping his head while she simultaneously spun her warhammer at the face of another Silver-Hand.  She swung her hammer single-handed in a wide arc, making everyone jump back, raising her leg and grabbing her dagger from her boot.  She threw it at the neck of a man, then bright her hammer up hard, hitting another man under the chin, cracking his entire face into a bloody mess.  She retrieved her dagger as the man fell forward, her hammer again being swung single-handed, smashing a woman in the ribs. 

“SWAP!”  She said and Vilkas immediately dropped and rolled to be in front of her, Saadia spinning on the spot to be facing his side.

“YOL!”  She gave them a taste of her fire. 

She threw her dagger and hit a Silver-Hand in the eye.  She slammed her hammer into the ribs of one big Silver-Hand, his armour knocking her hammer back, so she used the momentum to slam it into the man next to him, staggering him back. 

Vilkas brought his axe down, cleaving right through the shoulder of his next opponent, letting go of his axe momentarily to roundhouse kick the next one, stomping him in a similar fashion to Saadia, his dagger finding its mark in the throat of the woman he’d thrown it at.

“LIZ!”  Saadia froze several Silver-Hand solid, Vilkas looked over his shoulder momentarily, to see what this Shout he’d never heard before did, as he grabbed his axe in his left hand.

“By Ysgramor!”  He marvelled as her hammer slamming into one of the frozen Silver-Hand shattered him to a thousand pieces.  He used the momentum of his pull on his axe to swing it up and over to cleave another person’s shoulder, while Saadia literally smashed people to pieces. 

It was about this time that the remaining Silver-Hand began to back up, realising how formidable their opponents were.

And that was when a giant grey-brown werewolf literally jumped in amongst them, jaws snapping and bloody, tearing at them, Saadia laughing loudly as Farkas literally ripped them to shreds as they tried to retreat from her. 

In front of Vilkas, Aela was literally eating the hearts out of her opponents, her claws ripping them to shreds, Vilkas making sure to keep Saadia’s back to Aela’s savagery by carefully edging around as he fought, Saadia keeping her back to his, followed him without thought.  In this way, he managed to make sure she didn’t see Aela eating her human prey. 

The fight was quickly over with all 4 of them killing Silver-Hand.

But the search for the shard of Wuuthrad was not over. 

Once Farkas and Aela had turned back to their human form they had searched the camp, and all the bodies, Vilkas and Farkas subtly working to keep Saadia away from the bodies Aela had killed in her Beastform. 

But the shard wasn’t there. 

“Are we thinking it was just a trap to get us here?”  Aela asked.  There was blood still all over her, but she had wiped off her face.  They were all covered in blood.

“I think it’s up here somewhere.”  Vilkas responded. 

“So we keep searching.”  She answered. 

“I guess we go the way they were fleeing?”  Saadia asked.

“Good start.”  Aela agreed and they set off into the alpine forest. 

It was a relatively narrow strip of forest on the flattest part of the mountain before it plunged down into a deep ravine, a raging river far below. 

The Silver-Hand had erected a wooden bridge across the wide, deep ravine. 

Saadia felt her heart speed up and noticed that all three of them gave her a look. 

“Damnit.”  She grumbled, “Bloody werewolves.”  They had all felt her pulse racing; they all knew of her slight fear of heights now.  Farkas chuckled and put an arm around her waist, stroking her hip gently as Vilkas and Aela checked out the bridge. 

“It looks stable enough.”  Aela said thoughtfully and Vilkas nodded. 

“It should take our combined weights easily.”  He added, “Come on.”  He motioned to Saadia and Farkas, Aela silently agreeing to bring up the rear, guarding their backs as they crossed the bridge.  Vilkas was already on the bridge when Saadia stepped out onto it, Farkas behind her saying encouraging words, very softly. 

The bridge was narrow; two people could walk abreast.  But Saadia held tightly to both wooden railings, Vilkas walking backwards in front of her, keeping an eye on her.  Farkas had his eye on the opposite bank, making sure no one waiting to ambush them; he had the best eyes out of them all. 

They were about halfway, Saadia feeling much better, the brothers both sure she wouldn’t freeze up in fear now, when they heard it.

A roar.

“Oh no…”  Saadia groaned and looked up. 

“What was that?”  Aela asked, looking around.

“Dragon.”  Saadia said.  They all stared at her in disbelief.  “Get off the bridge!” 

But the air was thrumming and the Dragon rose up from beneath them, its eyes coming level with them as its wings beat, making it rise effortlessly through the air.

“By the Gods…”  Vilkas breathed.  They all stared at the Dragon for a moment.

“Dovahkiin…” The Dragon said evilly. 

Saadia whipped her hammer out and slammed it into the Dragon’s face, and it roared in response. 

And that got everyone moving.  Aela rolled away and pulled out her bow, taking aim at the Dragon’s wings, wanting to send it plunging down the ravine.  Farkas pulled out his sword and slashed at the Dragon’s face, as Vilkas brought his axe down on its head. 

Saadia saw it drawing breath to Shout.

“MOVE!”  She shouted at them and the brothers backed away quickly.

“YOL TOO-”

“FUS RO DAH!”  Saadia pushed its fire back into its face as she had done to other Dragons.  The Dragon roared in fury, the power of Saadia’s Shout sending it reeling back.  But it flew back around, higher.

“YOL TOOR SHUL!”  It Shouted, fire raining down on Saadia.

“NOI!”  Farkas yelled, running forward, but Aela grabbed him and pulled him back, saving his life.  Vilkas had nearly run into the fire as well, only his quick thinking saved him; reminded him that she was Dragonborn – she was born to kill Dragons.  He was not. 

“LIZ!”  Saadia Shouted and the Dragon roared again, frost forming over its scaly face.  It had to land; it’s eyes were frosted over and it couldn’t see.  It aimed to land on the bridge, bringing back within swinging distance. 

“NOW GO!”  Aela yelled at Farkas and let him go, taking aim at the Dragon again.  The brothers rushed in and hacked at the Dragon, but it wheeled around again, out of their range.  Aela sent arrows flying after it, but they pinged off its scaly hide.

“THE BRIDGE IS ON FIRE!”  Vilkas noted, but the Dragon was on them again.

“MOVE!”  Saadia reminded the brothers to get out of the firing range.  The Dragon poured fire on her again, but Saadia found she could bear the heat, it felt like it blistered her skin, but still she survived it mostly uninjured.  This one’s Voice was not that powerful.

The Dragon landed one foot on the railing of the bridge, the other on the bridge itself, and snapped its jaws at Vilkas, who dove out of the way almost too late.  It then snapped at Farkas, who was better prepared after seeing his brother nearly die. 

But Saadia was jumping up on the rope railing, her fear forgotten, grabbing hold of one of the Dragon’s horns and pulling herself up onto the beast’s back.  The brothers hacked at its face, trying to avoid its snapping jaws while Aela shot arrows at its wings.

But Saadia had a better plan; she smashed her hammer down on the Dragon’s wing, where it met its body.  The Dragon roared and tried to throw her off, but she kept her footing and slammed her hammer into the other wing, breaking both of them, the Dragon roaring in rage, fear and pain.  She slammed her hammer into both wings multiple times, the Dragon trying to get at her with its jaws, but she slammed her hammer into its face and dodged its bites. 

Aela put her bow away, unsheathing her swords, she joined the brothers in slashing at the Dragon’s face, stabbing it in the eye as Vilkas’s axe cut a chunk of flesh out of its neck and Farkas’s sword left a huge gaping wound across its snout. 

Saadia stood on the Dragon’s back, hearing its pulse quicken; its panic – it knew it was going to die.  She watched her family killing their first Dragon, and let them do it with no further help from her. 

She wanted to prove once and for all that she wasn’t the only one that could kill Dragons… even if she was the only one who could take their souls and thus kill them forever… she wasn’t the only one who could put them down in the first place.

If she was right, she could give hope to everyone in Skyrim that they could protect themselves from this scourge – that the city guards could protect them. 

She felt the Dragon shudder through its last breath, the three Companions, cheering when they realised they had killed it.  And then the carcass started to burn, the light swirling and entering her.

They looked up at her on the Dragon’s back, its soul entering her, the look of almost orgasmic bliss on her face as Akatosh’s gift was realised once again. 

They were stunned into silence, Farkas and Aela on one side of the carcass, Vilkas on the other, staring up at her.

“Dovahkiin.”  Vilkas whispered to himself. 

“By Ysgramor.”  Farkas was astounded. 

“What just happened?”  Aela whispered.

“She took its soul.”  Farkas answered, having heard this from Vilkas dozens of times. 

She was stood on its spine and she looked down at them a huge grin on her face.

She jumped down next to Vilkas, ready to continue on their journey.

“You’ve killed a Dragon – that’s one of everything now.”  She said to Vilkas with a smug grin.

“You trying to get me to go to Solstheim?”  He asked, amused.

“You haven’t killed enough Dragons to be an expert on them yet.”  She countered.

“And how many will I have to kill to be an expert?”

“A couple of hundred.”  She answered.

“So I’m never leaving?”  He asked with an equally amused smile, his eyes dropping from her eyes to her lips, only momentarily before rising back to her eyes.

“Not if I can help it.”  She said and turned to Farkas and Aela, “You’re going to have to climb through the skeleton.”  She told them.

And then the bridge groaned ominously.

“The bridge is on fire…”  Vilkas remembered.

“And it can’t take the weight anymore.”  Saadia understood. 

There was a loud cracking noise.

“RUN!”  Aela ordered.  Farkas went to climb through the skeleton as Vilkas and Saadia turned to run to solid ground.  “NO TIME ICE-BRAIN!”  Aela yelled at him and pulled him back the other way. 

The bridge began collapsing while they were still on it, running as it fell away beneath them. 

Vilkas hit solid ground first and he turned, holding his hand out to Saadia, pulling her to land as soon as he got hold of her hand, both of them tumbling to the ground, instantly getting up to see if Farkas and Aela had made it. 

They saw them, similarly positioned on the ground on the other side and both let out a relieved laugh.

Vilkas and Saadia were on the side that they had been meaning to be on, Farkas and Aela were on the side they had started on. 

All 4 of them came to the cliff edge and stared over the ravine. 

“Keep going, we’ll find another way over.”  Aela said.

“Don’t kill all the Silver-Hand before we get there!”  Farkas added. 

“We’ll save a couple for you!”  Saadia returned.

“We’ll be safe!”  Vilkas called to them and Saadia rolled her eyes at him.  “While we kill them all.”  He added softly to her, and gave her a playful grin.  She laughed and they waved farewell to Aela and Farkas before heading into the forest on the other side of the now destroyed bridge.

 

***

 

An hour of trekking through mountainous forests brought them to a stream that plunged of a sheer cliff into the ravine below. 

“Well I need a bath.”  Vilkas noted; he was still covered in in blood. 

“You go first, I’ll keep watch – in case we have any Silver-Hand friends show up.”

“Good idea.”  Vilkas agreed and began stripping off, cleaning his armour quickly as he went, before heading into the waist deep stream. 

“You fight incredibly well.”  She said as she sat on some high nearby rocks.

“Thanks.”  He answered, “You’re not too bad yourself.  Those Shouts are pretty useful.”  He added.

“Imagine if I had your skill and those Shouts.”  She answered. 

“You’re already unstoppable; you don’t need any more help!”  He said with satisfaction; she had basically admitted that he was a more skilled fighter than she was. 

“I think it’d be interesting to see who won in a real fight between us…”  She said, he nodded thoughtfully.

“Are you using Shouts?”  He asked.

“Are you tapping into the wolf?”  She countered.

“We both know you’d win.”  He shrugged, the moment of being better than her passed; he knew the truth.  He was skilled, probably the most skilled fighter in all of Tamriel.  But he was no match for Saadia.  He knew it. 

“It’d be a hard fight.”  Saadia answered.  “I know Farkas nearly killed me, but that’s only because I underestimated his speed.”  She said, “Not a mistake I’ll make again; so he stands no chance.  But you?”  She shook her head, “You’re tricky, you’re strong, fast, a quick-thinker… and more skilled than anyone I’ve ever seen.”

“I know.”  He answered. 

“Cocky bastard.”  She laughed. 

“But you Dragonborn…”  He said, “You’re the best fighter I’ve ever seen.  You might not be as skilled as me, but your power, your creativity with your weapon, your gifts…”  He sighed, “You’re unstoppable.”  He used his hands to bring water up to his face, cleaning blood away.  “Skyrim is in good hands.”

“Skyrim isn’t in my hands.”  She said and sighed.  “She’s in the hands of her people.” 

“Well…” He said as he washed blood off his neck, “At least you’re one of them.” 

She watched him wash for a moment, thinking it would be easier if he just shoved his face in the water, instead of scooping water up to his face.  She shrugged to herself and looked around; no one was around, they were safe, he could take his time if he wanted to. 

“What was it like killing your first Dragon?”  She asked and he sighed happily.

“That was something I will never forget.”  He answered, “It was a glorious victory!”  She could hear the excitement still in his voice, “I almost felt as though I was a Nordic hero of old.”  He laughed at himself. 

“You’re not a Nordic hero of old Vilkas.”

“Oh I know.”  He sighed heavily.

“You’re a Nordic hero of today.”  She told him and he turned to look at her.  “Now hurry up.” 

“I…”  She had turned away, scanning the surrounds again.  He knew there was no point arguing with her; she was determined to think well of him. 

He finished cleaning up and Saadia returned her eyes to him just as he starting coming out of the stream, water dripping from him.  She couldn’t help but note the differences between his and his brother’s body again, the slightly smaller shoulders, the lither waist, slightly longer legs.  He was slightly taller than Farkas; she had noticed something that most people didn’t notice.  He looked like a sleeker, faster version of his younger brother, she thought.  Her eyes dropped to his groin and she made herself look away quickly; she’d made a point of not looking below the waist all the other times they had been naked in each other’s presence. 

She kept looking away until he sat next to her on the rocks, still completely naked.  She turned and looked at him, her eyes going down instantly. 

“Have to dry off a bit before I put my armour back on – I didn’t bring towels into battle, silly me.”  He explained with a grin, and Saadia nodded and looked away.  “When I’m dry I’ll get dressed and you can bathe.”  He said flopping back on the rock. 

Saadia looked everywhere but at Vilkas and noticed that the trees made this area very shady; the only place to get sun was in the stream or on this rock.  He’d sat here next to her to get sun, to dry quicker.  Vilkas noticed her looking away and sat back up.

“Does this make you uncomfortable?”  He asked sincerely concerned.  “I know that living in Jorrvaskr… mixed quarters… it makes us all more comfortable with bodies and-”

“No it’s fine.”  She said, still looking away.  “I guess…”  She turned and looked at him, “I can’t help but compare you to your brother.”  She said honestly and saw very clearly that he didn’t like that, by the look in his eyes.  “And that’s not fair to either of you.”  She added.

“No.”  Vilkas agreed, “But if-”

“It’s fine.”  She reiterated.  “I need to deal with that issue, not you.” 

“Alright.”  He said lying back again, “Good sun today, it won’t take too long to dry.”  Saadia scanned the surrounding trees, looking for any movement at all. 

“It’s kind of impressive that you didn’t turn back there.”  She said, “Looked like you really wanted to.” 

“I’m glad I didn’t.”  He answered.

“Sticking to your word.” 

“We would have left you alone in that trap.”  He countered, “Sometimes the wolf blood runs too hot, and we don’t think.” 

“I’d have been alright.”  Saadia shrugged.

“No doubt.”  Vilkas answered, “But you are our Shield-sister; it’s our job to stand with you, as it is yours to stand with us.”  He turned over and laid on his stomach, Saadia feeling more comfortable to look at him now.  “Our Beastblood would have let you down.”  Saadia looked at his back, at his tattoos, down his waist to his pert arse and then looked away again.  “I hope the Beastblood is looking less good to you now.”  He said and turned his head to look at her. 

“I still don’t know what I think about it.”  She answered.

“It looked, to me, like you wanted to go with them.”  He said softly. 

“And then I would have left you in the trap.”  She says, “I see the point you’ve made.” 

“Did you?”  He asked, “Did you want to go with them?” 

“Yes.”  She barely gave the word any volume, her eyes still scanning the trees.  He turned onto his side and looked at her.  “Are you disappointed in me?”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes.”  She said simply. 

There was a moment of silence and she turned to look at him, his eyes were lowered in thought.

“No.”  He said finally, “I’m not.  It’s natural to be curious.”  He sat up, “As I’ve said.”  He jumped down from the rocks and began dressing.

“You’re a terrible liar.”  She told him.

“I’m not disappointed.”  He reiterated, “I’m terrified.” 

“Big strong, Nord like you scared of a little curiosity?”  She teased and he turned and cocked an eyebrow at her.

“Not when you put it like that.”  He answered with a tight smile.  “But there’s things you don’t know.”  He said, thinking of Aela’s hunting of the Silver-Hand earlier today, of eating hearts and hunting Humans. 

“And I couldn’t possibly know or understand unless I was one of you.”  She said agitatedly. 

“You feel on the outside.”  He understood.  “I’m sorry about that.”  He climbed back up the rock and motioned for her to go. 

Vilkas scanned the trees as she undressed and spoke.

“You all make me feel very welcomed.”  She countered his assertion, “But I know that there are things I’ll never be a part of.”

“Never?”  He asked, turning to look at her as she got into the water. 

“You’ve made that clear.”   She said before ducking her head under the water, washing herself clean of blood.  Vilkas watched her, his face slightly scrunched up, waiting for her to come back up. 

“And I have made it clear that it is your choice.”  He said as soon as she raised her head from the water. 

“A choice with consequences I don’t want.”  She answered.

“What do you mean?”

“My relationships with you and Farkas and Kodlak would suffer.”  She answered, “It’s not a real choice if you 3 are forcing my hand.”  She pointed out.  “Skjor and Aela do not judge me for not choosing the Beastblood as you 3 would for choosing it… Although I think Farkas would be the least of my trouble with you 3.”  She conceded. 

“I am sorry.”  He said softly.  “It is not my intent to force your hand… only to make you realise what it is you flirt with.” 

“I’m not a flirt.”  She said with a flirty grin and a teasing tone. 

“I take it the conversation is over then.”  He answered, turning his eyes back to the trees. 

“Only because there’s nothing else to say on this matter.  You say it’s my choice; I say it’s not really.”  She answered.

“Do you want my permission?”  He asked, “I would have thought you needed no one’s permission.”

“If it was something that only affected me, then no – I need no one’s permission.  But this affects everyone in the Circle.”  She answered.

“Not as much as it affects you.”  He answered.  She wiped blood off her hands, wishing he could understand her viewpoint.  “It is your choice Dragonborn.”  He said firmly, “And you will be my Shield-sister and I will fight at your side, no matter what you choose.”

“Perhaps.”  She said as she started to walk out of the stream.  “But one thing I do know is that I bathe a lot quicker than you.”  She teased, watching his eyes turn away.  “Is it you that is now uncomfortable?”  She asked as she climbed back up the rocks to sit in the sun.

“I turn my eyes away for your sake.”  He denied her words. 

“Well thank you, but there’s no need.”  She answered, “I’m becoming accustomed to it.”  She laid back in the sun, enjoying its warmth on her body, she closed her eyes and sighed happily.  “I could fall asleep like this.”

“The sun’s nice.”  He agreed, turning to see her eyes closed.  His eyes had dropped down her body before he’d had chance to consciously acknowledge her closed eyes.  His eyes lingered on a scar above her pubic hair and then he looked away, scanning the trees again, he took a deep breath, tasting the air for the scent of enemies. 

She opened her eyes and looked at him as he scanned the trees.  She saw him pause, take a deep breath, smelling the air, and drop his head to the side; he’d smelled something. 

“What is it?”  She asked, fearing Silver-Hand. 

“It’s nothing.”  He said uncomfortably.

“What, did you smell a rabbit taking a crap?”  She joked.

“I…” He sighed, “I smelled something I’m trying not to smell.  That’s all.”  He explained, somewhat reluctantly. 

“So it’s something about me.”  She said astutely.  She watched the way he looked even further away, turning his head so she could see the back of his head.  “Definitely about me.”  She was amused. 

“Perhaps.”  He admitted, very reluctantly.  “It’s nothing.”  He repeated. 

“What is it?”  She pressed and he sighed.

“Do you really want to know?”  He turned to look at her.

“Yes.”

He sighed again.

“Okay…”  He shook his head and looked away again, “You are… coming into peak fertility.”  He said as diplomatically as he could.

“By the Gods!”  She grumbled and rolled onto her stomach.  “Get some damned privacy around here!” 

“I don’t mean to smell things like that.”  He said honestly, “I try not to.  And I mostly succeed.” 

There was a silence while Saadia thought about that. 

“Is it going to be hard to be around me with that smell?”  She asked.  “Is it strong?” 

“It’s… noticeable.”  He answered.  “Because, as you know… wolves like to hunt and breed.”  He said bitterly.  “But it’s fine.  I’ve got it well under control.”

“So you won’t try and breed with me because I smell so good!”  She teased.  And then a thought occurred to her, “or does it smell bad to you?”

“It’s neither good or bad; it just is.”  He answered tightly.

“Well I suppose that’s good.”  She said, “We don’t need you acting like I do when I’ve been hit by a Corrupted Shade do we?”  She asked and he laughed at her ability to joke at her own expense.  “Very embarrassing.”  She added as he laughed.  He looked over at her; her dark skin glistening in the sun, her big round bottom sticking up invitingly… her scent.

“I’ll be fine.”  He reassured her, still staring at her arse.  “And just so you know… regardless of your smell or anything else… Hircine abhors rape, so if any werewolf starts… trying to mate.  You tell him no, and he will accept the rebuke with no further attempt.  We can be… very forthcoming in our attempts to mate – but we will not rape – even the ferals.  You have no need to fear that I can smell you and so I’ll lose control…”  He rolled his eyes at himself – at his inability to just shut up right now.

“Vilkas,” She said soothingly, rolling onto her side, “I know that you won’t rape me, in either man or beast form – because you abhor it.”  She said simply, “I care not what Hircine thinks.  I know I can trust you.  I do not fear you.  And besides – I wouldn’t let you or anyone else rape me.  I’d kill you.”  She said firmly.

“Good.”  He answered.

“But I am embarrassed that you can smell things like that.”  She sighed and shrugged, “I’ll get used to it.”  

He stared at her for a long moment, an unreadable expression on his face.

“I often wonder how you can trust us so much – but you truly do, don’t you?” 

“Either I’m a fool,” She said with an accepting expression, “Or fine judge of character – you decide.” 

“But you know we’ve all lied to you.”  
“You have your reasons.”  She shrugged, “It’s not for me to know every single thing about anyone.”  She said thoughtfully, “It’s kind of arrogant to think you should know everything about a person.  You can all keep your secrets; I honestly don’t mind.  I have my own secrets too.  People are entitled to their privacy.”  She added and then narrowed her eyes at him, “So stop smelling!”  She said with an amused expression.

“I will try my absolute hardest.”  He answered.

“Alright, I should probably get dressed.”  She sighed as she got up and jumped down from the rocks.  He watched her land as sure footed as a sabercat, her smell and her physical prowess making a growl catch in his throat.

“Watch it there Vilkas.”  He said to himself quietly, making himself look away and scan the trees. 

Saadia dressed quickly and they set off to find a crossing for the stream.  After they found a small stone bridge upstream, and obvious signs of people having been through this way, they knew they were on the right track. 

“Will they just be able to smell us?”  She asked, wondering how Aela and Farkas would find them.

“Yes.”  Vilkas answered. 

“And Farkas will be especially attracted to me when they catch up.”  She said, thinking about that.  “And he won’t know that I know why.” 

“It bothers you?”  He asked and she shrugged. 

“Not really.”  She said, “But it’s so strange to…”  She couldn’t find the words, “Is it a little bestiality, or is it just me?”  She asked and Vilkas narrowed his eyes, not sure if he liked that question.

“I guess so.”  He acknowledged. 

“I mean, I know you’re all Human beings, right?”  She said, “But if he’s especially attracted to me because of his wolf senses picking that up in me – it’s his wolf that wants me that much… The wolf is… animal, yeah?”

“I see what you’re saying.”  He said dourly. 

“So when the wolf wants me… it’s a little strange…”  She said, “But I don’t mind really, because…”  She shook her head and Vilkas watched her in the corner of his eyes, “Even when I see him in Beastform, I still just see Farkas.” 

“Aela too?”  He asked and she nodded.

“I imagine if I saw her fight as a werewolf, she’d be particularly fierce… savage… bloodthirsty even.”  Saadia said, “Because the Human affects the wolf too.”  She said and his eyebrows raised in surprise; he hadn’t expected her to understand any of this without being a wolf too.  “You’re 2 beings, but you’re also 1.”  She kept speaking, still getting her head around it all, “I guess some of the stuff Farkas said made me think of it as a separate individual inside of you… like some sort of parasite living off the Human part.  But that’s not the way it is.”  She continued, wondering what that meant when the wolf wanted something the person didn’t… “Confusing.”  She said to herself. 

“I’m not sure how Dragon Blood works.”  He said in response, “It’s confusing to me.” 

“What do you want to know?”  She asked.

“So you get Words of Power…?”  He said and she nodded, “And then… what does the Dragon soul do?  Why do you need it?”

“I learn the Word as soon as I see it,” She explained, “But somehow I can’t figure out how to say it – I lack the power that Dragons have.  But I can take that power from them when I kill them, and use it to… kind of unlock the Word.  So I can Shout it.” 

“Huh…”  He said thoughtfully, trying to get his head around it.  “It looks… pleasurable.”  He said, his eyes on her face. 

“It is.”  She agreed, “Very… almost orgasmic.”  She said, “I suppose like the Beastblood is pleasurable for you.”  She pointed out.  She expected a lecture on the differences between the good pleasure she got from her blessing and the bad darkness of his curse and how the pleasure of it was bad.

“So that’s how you look in orgasm?”  He teased.  She turned to him, a surprised look on her face.

“Not quite.”  She mumbled looking away and he laughed. 

“I’ve heard it often enough through the walls, I thought it would be nice to know what it looked like.”  He continued to tease.  But she turned, determined to give him as much teasing as he gave her. 

“The only way you’ll ever know what I truly look like when that much pleasure is rocking through my whole body… is if you give me one.”  She said and turned away, grinning at the look of surprise on his face, “Which we both know you’ll never do.”  She added. 

“I could if I wanted to.”  The words were out of his mouth before he had chance to stop them.  He closed his eyes, internally screaming at that brash, teenaged-type of brag that made him look ridiculous.

“Well that’s the point, isn’t it?”  She said turning back to him, “You don’t want to.”  She shrugged and turned back, continuing on.  Vilkas took a deep breath, feeling like he’d dodged an axe-blow by sheer luck and no skill. 

He knew he should reply, but he didn’t trust himself to speak right now and instead focussed on the trail ahead; there were footprints, and the smell of silver weapons. 

“They’ve been this way.”  He said softly.  “I can smell their silver.”

“Good – I think we both need a good fight.”  She responded and he wondered what she meant by that.  “Why do they have silver weapons?”  She asked.

“They think it kills werewolves more effectively.”  He replied. 

“Does it?”

“Only if forged in the Lunar Forge on the full moon.”  He said. “Which is where the myth of the link between werewolves and the full moon came from as well.”  He added. 

“The Lunar Forge?”

“I think it might be a myth too.”  He answered, “No one knows where it is… but then… Dragons where myths before you showed up.”  He added and she narrowed her eyes at him. 

“Yes it’s my fault they’re back.”  She said sarcastically. 

“The Gods had to give you a worthy opponent.”  He went along with her joke. 

“Well then, they’ll have to try harder, because I keep killing them!” 

“Oh don’t temp fate!”  He said, half joking, half serious. 

“Hey look.”  She said and crouched down, all seriousness now.  They looked at a cave up ahead.

“It reeks of them.”  He whispered. 

“Should we wait for Farkas and Aela?”

“If we’re being careful and responsible.”  He said and then a devilish grin came over his face.

“That’s what I like about you Vilkas – you seem all business, but really you’re pleasure driven.”  She said with an equally devilish grin.

“You know me far too well, Dovahkiin.”  He answered as they both broke cover and headed for the cave.  “No guard.”  He noted.

“Sloppy.”  Saadia said, “Or trap…”  She mused as they peered into the opening.

“Either way, between the 2 of us, they stand no chance.”  He said with a battle-loving grin. 

“You are so right.”  She agreed and they headed into the cave. 

There were old ruins inside the cave, but also tunnels dug into the living rock; fresh tunnels.  They knew which way to go without having to talk about it; all playful banter gone now.  It was time to hunt Silver-Hand. 

But the place seemed empty; no sign of life anywhere. 

“They’re here.”  Vilkas said, tasting the air.

“Definitely a trap then.”  Saadia said, wishing she could just taste the air like that. 

“Without a doubt.”  He said as they walked into a room with dozens of werewolf heads on spikes. 

“By the Gods…” Saadia whispered as Vilkas looked around the room, a mix of emotions on his face.

“Not all of these were feral.”  He said softly, a slight undertone of rage in his voice.

“I suggest that no one leaves this cave alive but us 2, Shield-brother.”  Saadia said and Vilkas turned his eyes to her, nodding slowly. 

They continued on down the newly cut tunnels, deeper into the mountain until they came across a chasm in the ground, crossed only by a single rope.  Beyond the chasm the tunnel led upwards. 

“That’s a trap.”  Vilkas said.

“Lucky I can jump that.”  She said and leapt over the chasm with ease.  Vilkas gave her an impressed look. 

“I thought you were scared of heights?”  He asked her.

“Only when I have to depend on something human made to deal with the height.”  She said, “Rickety bridges and wooden stairs.”  She shuddered.  “But I trust myself with heights.  If have to rely on myself to survive the height, I’m fine.” 

“There was no way we’d get you across that rope is there?”  He asked as he lined himself up to jump over.

“Probably not.”  She acknowledged.  He leapt across with as much ease as she had and they shared a look before continuing up the tunnel. 

“They’re close.”  He said after a while and Saadia nodded an acknowledgement. 

It wasn’t long until the tunnel opened up into a huge, completely human-made cavern. 

“Oh gosh, how unexpected – an ambush.”  Saadia whispered as they stood at the doorway, and she nodded subtly to a Silver-Hand, not hidden that well behind a table in the room. 

“Hm.”  Vilkas scanned the room.  “There’s a lot of them.”

“I can see.”  She said.  “Shall we kill them all?”

“I believe so.”  He answered and they stepped out into the room. 

Saadia half expected a gate to come crashing down behind her – she was so used to walking into traps in Nordic ruins.  But that didn’t happen. 

Nothing happened as they walked into the room.  Saadia looking closely at what looked like a large living area; tables, firepit, beds pushed up against the wall, the roof held up by dozens of wooden struts, bookshelves filled with books about hunting werewolves, several shrine alcoves - some with small statuettes of Stendarr in them. 

The poorly hidden Silver-Hand arose, as if they had been a surprise, Saadia and Vilkas giving each other a look from the corner of their eyes.

And then the rest of the Silver-Hand, that had been well hidden, came into the room; hidden doors, carved into the rock, perfectly concealed, opened to show hundreds of Silver-Hand.

Saadia sighed and looked over her shoulder; they were pouring in the door behind them too. 

“Gods damnit.”  She sighed and Vilkas was eyeing them all off. 

“There’s hundreds of them…”  He whispered and Saadia nodded.

“We needed a good fight, right?”  She said bracingly. 

“This isn’t a good fight.”  He said, “This is unwinnable.”  A man stepped forward, laughing.  “And they know it.”  Vilkas said.

“So you are the mighty Vilkas?”  He said.  “Or are you Farkas?”  He asked, “It matters not.”  He said, “You’ll be dead soon.”  He looked around at his army, “Even if you turn into that abomination, we can take you down.”  He said confidently.  Vilkas’s eyes stayed on him while Saadia looked around the room, taking everyone in.

“I’m sure you can.”  Vilkas said, putting his axe on his back, and Saadia knew he was effectively surrendering.  She knew he wouldn’t turn; but the Silver-Hand didn’t know that, and they stayed on alert. 

“I think I might torture you and send pieces of you to your brother.”  He said with an evil grin. 

“I’m sure you will.”  Vilkas said coldly.  Saadia looked at the book shelves, the beds, the tables, the struts between the floor and the ceiling, the Silver-Hand…

“So you accept your fate, Daedra-fucker?”  He asked and Vilkas nodded slowly.

“But I tell you, that this woman with me, knows nothing of the Circle.”  Vilkas said loudly, “She has no Beastblood, and is an innocent.”  He continued, “You must let her go, if you claim to be more Human than we are.”  Saadia turned to look at him.

“She stands with a werewolf; she has your insignia!”  He answered with contempt.

“She didn’t know we were werewolves until just now.  She is the first non-initiated member of the Circle for hundreds of years.”  Vilkas continued, “She is an innocent.  You must let her go.”  He said, “And I will come peacefully.” 

“Even if you fight, we’ll still torture and kill you.”

“I understand that.”  Vilkas answered, “But one way has me killing at least half of your fighters.  The other way has no losses for you.”  He continued.  The man talked in a soft whisper with a woman, seemingly considering his words.

“Martyrdom doesn’t suit you.”  Saadia said softly.

“Shut up.”  He said, “And get out of here.” 

“Not a chance.”  She whispered.

“You have to live.”  He said, looking at her, “I’m not essential.  You are.”  She saw so much raw emotion behind his eyes that she couldn’t understand.  “They’ll try to get you after they’ve let you go – you’ll have to run hard.”  He warned. 

“You think I’d leave you here?”  She asked, “You are my Shield-brother.”

“Don’t do this…”  He pleaded, “Go.” 

“How can we trust your word that she’s no werewolf?”  The man asked, “Unless we torture her to see if she turns.”  He chuckled sadistically. 

“I will kill everyone who comes near her.”  Vilkas said dangerously.  Saadia continued to look around the room, trying to find a way out of this. 

“She’s his mate!”  The woman spat angrily, “No werewolf defends another unless they’re mates.”  She added.

“You know nothing of us.”  Vilkas replied, “But believe what you will, I will defend this woman to the death.  How many of you are willing to die when you could all live if you simply let her walk out of here?”  And Saadia had an idea.  She put her hammer on her back and continued to think it through; there was one problem with her plan…

The woman walked forward, getting almost in striking distance.  She looked at Vilkas and then Saadia. 

“I never thought a werewolf capable of love.”  She said, looking at him closely as Saadia eyed the empty shrine alcove nearby.

“We are every capable of love.  And we love fiercely… forever.”  He answered as Saadia’s eyes followed the nearest strut from the floor up to the ceiling. 

“And you’re trying to convince us you love a non-werewolf so fiercely you would give your life for her?”  She laughed, “You think us fools.  She is a werewolf like you.” 

Saadia eyed the ceiling closely. 

“She is Dragonborn.”  Vilkas answered, “That is why I would die to protect her life.” 

“You lie!”  The man said angrily, “Enough of this!”

“Actually…”  Saadia said as she took the Masque of Clavicus Vile off, knowing its horns could be dangerous in her plan.  “I am Dragonborn, and I’m not a werewolf.”  She said as she put the helmet in her pouch, “He was telling you the truth, however I did know that they were werewolves, and I chose to stand with them anyway.  And I will make that decision again today.”  She said stepping forward, the woman staking several steps back and Vilkas sighing loudly.  “I will fight you all, and kill every last one of you.”  She took another step forward, and Vilkas was amused to see everyone step back.  “I will Shout you all to pieces, like Ulfric killed the High King.”  She took another step closer to the support strut she was interested in.  “So I guess he did lie about that one thing…”  She said and shrugged as she took another step forward, “But everyone lies.”  She said, “Just like you’re all lying to yourselves if you think you can take me down.”  She looked across the crowd, standing proudly, Vilkas looking deflated; he had no idea how to get out of this now; the last Dragonborn was going to die before she could defeat Alduin… it would be his fault Saadia died…

They all stared at her, half believing her until the man started to laugh.

“Nice bluff.”  He said, “Seize them!” 

“FUS RO DAH!”  Saadia Shouted at the strut, sending dozens of Silver-Hand flying away, knocking down other ceiling support struts.  There was a loud ominous cracking sound as Saadia dove back, grabbing Vilkas by his armour, her fingers going under his chest plate near his throat and dragging him towards the empty shrine alcove.  All around them Silver-Hand were looking up at the ceiling, and slabs of stone started to fall down.

“BY YSGRAMOR!”  Vilkas swore as they swerved to dodge a falling piece of roof.  She pulled him into the alcove.

“FEIM!”  she said and his momentum pushed him forward until she was inside him, just as a huge stone slab crashed down behind them. 

Vilkas was breathing hard in the tiny space, aware that Saadia was ethereal and inside him.  He could hear the screams of the Silver-Hand as the roof continued to crash down in the room.

“Back up.”  She whispered and he pressed himself against the stone slab behind them.  She pulled herself out of him and willed herself solid, filling the small alcove completely; their bodies pressed together tightly.  It was such a small fit that it was hard to breath.  There was a rumbling, rolling sound and Saadia nodded; it had turned out as she had hoped; the rocks were rolling down the hallway, leaving this room open for them.  Except for the giant slab of rock keeping them in this tiny alcove. 

The screams stopped long before the rumbling of the stones.

“Okay… it didn’t go entirely to plan.”  She said, “But they’re dead, and you’re not.”  She said meaningfully.  “We’re not.”  She added. 

“True.”  He said softly, looking up and around at the rock alcove, anywhere but at her; her face was so close, her body pressed against him, only the fact that they were wearing armour stopped it from being far too intimate.  But her breath on his neck and face, her scent, her closeness, his adrenaline pumping… how ready he’d been to die for her… Vilkas found he couldn’t look at her.  “This is a very tight fit though.”  He said more to himself than her.

“Kind of makes trying to get Farkas’s huge cock up my arse seem tame.”  She said and he stopped breathing for a moment before shaking his head at her and looking even more away from her.  She chuckled, hardly able to let her stomach move with mirth.

“Interesting type of rock.”  He said, looking at the rock, “Lucky there was no shrine in this alcove.”  He added. 

“You always do that; talk about something else when I embarrass you with sex stories.”  She said, thoroughly amused.

“I just don’t want to talk about my brother’s sex life.”  He continued to not look at her.

“I know.”  She whispered devilishly.

“And you’re torturing me with it.”  He understood, rolling his eyes.

“Maybe.” 

He looked to see her huge grin. 

“I’ve become predictable.”  He said, turning his eyes away.  “Must be very dull for you.”

“Oh no, I like torturing you!”  She laughed.  “Oh I don’t like not being able to laugh properly though.”  The walls of the tiny hole they were in, pressed into her as she tried to laugh.

“I didn’t know you could become ethereal.”  He said softly.

“What was it like having a woman inside of you?”  She asked cheekily.

“It’s not the first time.”  He shot back and she laughed again. 

“Alright… okay…” She said as the laughter made it hard to breath in the tight space.  “Let me just, get up you…”  She said, wiggling her way upwards between him and the wall, trying to see over his head; the rock had left a slight crack at the very top, so she might be able to see into the other room.

“By Ysgramor…”  Vilkas breathed, gritting his teeth as she wiggled her way up, her body pressing and moving against his, her smell everywhere.  He closed his eyes and looked away, trying to take shallow breaths, clenching his fist to stop the amber showing in his eyes… her smell… And she grunted, and sighed, and groaned as she moved her way up, eventually getting her breastplate in his face as she leaned over his head to look through the crack.

“There’s more room up here!”  She joked, “Just grab hold of me?”  She said, worried she’d fall back down. 

“I can barely move my arms.”  He complained, working them up to grab her around the thighs. 

“Good news or bad news first?”  She asked.

“Good.”

“The rocks all went down the tunnel, so the room is pretty much clear; we’re not completely encased in rock!”

“That is good news.”  Vilkas said.  “And bad news?”

“This slab of stone,” She said slapping it, “Is very solid and thick.”

“Damnit.”  He said as she leaned back.

“Let me down slowly?”  She said and he let his grip go of her legs slightly, and she began to wiggle her way down.  They were both panting, sweating, working out how to get her feet back on the ground, his hands now on her arse as she worked her way down, Vilkas desperately trying to maintain focus. 

“Alright… so plans to get out of here?”  She asked but Vilkas was looking up, keeping his eyes averted, knowing that they’d be gleaming amber… her smell was getting into every pore of his body.  It had completely filled this small place, and his ache for her was becoming unmanageable.  “I could try Unrelenting Force.”  She said, looking over her shoulder at the rock behind her.  “But I’m not sure how I could do that Shout without killing you, or me... or both of us.  I think the space might be too enclosed.”  She mused.  “I could become ethereal and go on the other side of the rock and…”  She shook her head, “Do what?  And I don’t even know if I can go through rock… so far I think probably not…”  She said considering her experiences with being ethereal so far; she was probably just as stuck in here as he was.  “In fact I’m certain I can’t go through rock… It’s better to use both of our strengths to push the rock out from here.”  She said, nodding to herself.  “I couldn’t even go for help, because I have no idea where Farkas and Aela are… and there’s bound to be a lot of Silver-Hand out there…:  She rambled through her thoughts out loud, “No, we have to stick together.”  She decided.  “So… I guess we have to push that stone out.”  She said.

“I’ll follow your lead.”  He said through gritted teeth, still looking up.

“Are you… do you have a fear of enclosed spaces?”  She said, suddenly aware of Vilkas’s strange behaviour; his whole body seemed to be shaking. 

“No.”  He said breathily. 

“Then what’s wrong?  Did you get injured?” 

“It’s nothing, let’s push.”  He said, bringing his arms up slightly to grip the walls near her hips.  He pushed against the wall with his hands, his back against the rock, putting all his strength into it. 

“I think you need to get your arms up higher.”  She said and he nodded, working his arms up higher; chest height.  He pushed back, using the walls to push himself back.  Saadia pushed herself into him, trying to use her weight and strength to give him more force.  Vilkas closed his eyes and tried to focus on anything but her smell, on the feel of her pressed so tightly against him, on the sound of her panting breath, her groans, her breath on his skin…

After a few minutes Saadia made an annoyed noise.

“I have never pushed and grunted and groaned and been pressed against an attractive man for this long without satisfaction.”  She complained.

“I’m sure I can give you satisfaction.”  He said, his eyes finding hers. 

There was a pause as they stared at each other.

“Did you… Did you just flirt with me?”  Saadia asked, completely surprised. 

“Didn’t expect that, did you?”  He said with a grin; glad to return to being the one person who kept surprising her.

“You picked quite a time to start flirting.”  She noted, her eyes not leaving his.

“I don’t like to do things in the normal order.”  He answered, their playful conversation helping him to centre himself, the wolf losing ground to the man.

“Well that’s obvious.”  She said, obviously pleasantly amused.  He grinned as he saw the smile on her face, her focus back on pushing.  He pushed too, trying to move the rock at all.  “Except, now you’ve got me wondering how things would have been different if you’d have flirted with me when we first met instead of looking at me like I was a curiosity.”  She said and Vilkas nearly stopped breathing; to hear her talking like this.  “I mean assuming you found me attractive of course, which I know you don’t, but if you had, if you did…”  She said, her eyes on his chest, her face thoughtful.  He couldn’t stop looking at her face.  “What would it have been like if you’d flirted back then…?”  She wondered out loud, “Would I have taken you to my bed?  Would it have been good for both of us?  What would have happened after?”  She asked, Vilkas’s mind silently answering each question, “Do you ever wonder?”  She asked looking up at him.

“No.”  He said a little more firmly than he intended, “I don’t.”

“Well of course not, you don’t find me attractive, so why would you?”  She said and laughed at herself.

“Are you actually saying you find me attractive?”  Vilkas asked, not sure he wanted to hear the answer.

“I’m fucking your twin brother on a regular basis.”  She answered.

“Yes, but as you like to point out, we’re very different people.”  Vilkas said, his heart hammering too fast, but he couldn’t take a deep breath to calm himself; her smell was too intoxicating. 

“And as you like to point out you’re also very similar.”  She said, making it clear that she was admitting he was attractive.  He watched her root around for a better handhold on the walls, his heart finally slowing down as his eyes focussed on her face, his mind gripping hold of her words happily. 

“Uh…” He stuttered slightly, swallowed and then tried again, “You’re not unattractive.”  He said softly, not able to say much more; he feared he would give too much away. 

“Are you saying-?”  She started with a teasing voice.

“I’m saying,” He interrupted her, “I do not think about it, but not because you are unattractive.”  He said sternly and she chuckled at his stoicism. 

“You don’t think about it because I annoy you.”  She teased.

“Yes, you do!”  He answered and she laughed merrily, her laugh like music the best bards in all of Tamriel laboured to make poor copies of.  “Not really.”  He admitted and they laughed together, their bodies shaking, pressed together, hard to get their breaths.

“Well if I’m not unattractive, and I’m not annoying…”  She prodded, teasing. 

“It’s because you’re my Shield-sister.”  He said simply, “I make it my job to not think of anyone in the Circle like that.”  He explained. 

“But Nurie…?”  Saadia asked and he sighed.

“What about her?”

“You were with her, I know it.”  She answered.  He looked hard at her for a moment.

“Alright.”  He decided, “Yes.”  He admitted, “I met her before she joined the Companions.”

“Ah…” Saadia understood.  “And it continued on once she joined?”

“For a while.”  He said and she could see the deep emotions behind his eyes. 

“You loved her very much.”  She whispered.

“I did care about her deeply.”  Vilkas agreed, “but it was a mutual ending to our relationship that we were both happy with.”  He said and she sensed no lie in his words, “We remained close friends afterwards.”

“I’m so sorry about what happened to her Vilkas.”  She whispered and took his hand.  She felt electricity surging under his skin; like he was charged and ready to blow.  It was intense, magnetic.

“As am I…”  He said softly, “I keep thinking I should have known what Caiche was…”  He confessed sadly.

“You can’t know everything.”  She countered.

“I should have smelled it on her.”  Vilkas shook his head.

“You’re too hard on yourself.”  She said, “You’re not the only wolf in the Circle.”  She noted, “Brandlar was too and he knew her best, and he didn’t know what she was.” 

“And you’re always too kind to me.”  He retorted. 

“Really?”  She asked and he paused.

“No, not really.”  He sighed. 

“Look who’s always making it a competition now.”  She said, and then before he could reply, “Let’s push!” 

He didn’t reply, she was already forcing her body forward, so he pushed his hands into the wall, pushing his back hard into the stone.

“I think it moved!”  Saadia said, “I think I can…”  She started to squirm and push, turning herself around.  Vilkas looked up again, trying to focus on continuing to push; but the physical exertion was almost as stimulating as a physical fight.  Vilkas knew he was losing the fight with his wolf; a mating growl was rising to his lips and he was constantly gritting his teeth to keep it down. 

Saadia got herself around, facing the wall and got her hands up in front of her chest.

“This’ll help.”  He said and pushed back into him, her arse pressing into his groin. 

Vilkas growled deeply, his hand gripping the rocks tightly. 

“I’m sorry.”  He said with a strained voice.  “It doesn’t mean anything.”  He reassured her, “You’re in no danger.” 

“I know.”  She said, looking over her shoulder at him. 

“It’s just very hard not to growl.”  He said, trying to get his voice under control, his mind back on the task at hand and not on her smell. 

“I understand, Farkas explained.”  She said, wondering how much she should say. 

“Explained what?”  She could hear the alarm in his voice and turned back around to him, wiggling and struggling the whole way, Vilkas looking up again, his fingers digging into the rock painfully. 

“Just…”  She looked down, “That… sometimes the wolf wants something that the man doesn’t.”  She said and Vilkas narrowed his eyes.  “I know what that growl is.”  She added.

“By the Gods.”  He looked away.  Embarrassed.

“I tell you that so you know I’m not afraid.”  She told him, “It’s okay, I completely understand how being in wolf form is so different from Human form.”  She tried to soothe him, but he kept looking away, “how your priorities change, how things feel different.”  She reached up to touch his face, wanting him to look at her, and the moment her hand was on his face his eyes turned to her, the amber in them strong, “I know how some desires become stronger and others weaker, and things you’d never even desired before become impossible to resist.  Farkas and I spent a long time talking about this after I came back from the Greybeards… before he stopped talking about it altogether.  Which is annoying for me.”  She admitted.  He made a soft noise, and she could see more emotion in his eyes than she’d ever seen, “I understand that wolf-Vilkas and man-Vilkas are two very different beings sometimes.”  She continued wanting to soothe him, to ease his embarrassment, “I completely understand that wolf you thinks of me as a strong candidate for mating.”  His eyes looked away again, “But man you, has no such desire.  I get it, it’s fine.”  But he wouldn’t look at her, “Farkas told me about Skjor, growling at Kodlak; I know it means nothing.”  She said and he finally looked back at her.  “And I know that the wolf urge to breed is… OH!”  She suddenly realised, “And my smell!” 

“Your smell.”  He repeated, his eyes on her, the hunger in them unable to be hidden. 

“That’s got to be getting under the wolf’s skin.”  She nodded and he nodded in return.  “So I know, it means nothing; you’re going to growl… I get it.”

“No you don’t.”  He said, breathing deeply, tasting the air and growling deeply as he let his breath out.

“Because I’m not a werewolf.” 

“Something like that.”  He answered, his eyes on her.  “I’m going to have to tap into the wolf.”  He said, his hungry eyes not leaving her face, “My normal strength won’t get it done.”  His voice became reluctant, “I’m going to growl a lot more.”  He said, the intensity in his eyes growing, “And I am very sorry about that… I don’t want you to feel…” He shook his head, “I’m just… I’m sorry.”  He looked away.

“It’s alright.”  She stroked his cheek again, “I’ll turn around, so you don’t have to worry about me seeing you.”  She said astutely, “and I can help you push again.  And I’ll ignore all your growls, deal?”

“Yes.”  He said hoarsely.  Closing his eyes as she turned around, Vilkas tried to get it together.  He was going to have some very strong words with Farkas for telling Saadia about the mating growl.  Very, very strong words. 

Saadia pushed her hands into the wall in front of her, bending her knees and wedging her feet into the wall and floor, using her legs to also push.  Vilkas gripped the wall and pushed his back into the stone, trying not to focus on her arse pushing into his groin, her back against his chest, her smell – her fertility peaking. 

He growled deeply again, breathing deeply, smelling her sex, growling again, inviting her to mate. 

“Ugh.”  He groaned, hating the way the growl came so easily when he tapped into the wolf strength.  

“It’s okay.”  She reassured him. 

“Not really.”  He said as he pushed as hard as he could, Saadia joining him in the action, deciding this was not the time to try and convince him that he was wrong. 

She pushed as hard as she could, grunting loudly.

Vilkas pushed hard, his eyes on her, his growls coming from deep in his belly now; his desire for her was so intense that he wasn’t sure he could contain it to growls much longer. 

It always started with the growls, and if there was no rebuke, it would lead onto hands / claws on bodies… mouth / jaw and fangs on bodies…

Vilkas squeezed his hands into the rock and put all his strength into the rock.

It budged only a small amount and they were both left panting, sweating, pressed together.  He tried not to smell her hair… he tried not to smell any of her.

“You’re going to have to turn.”  She said evenly.

“No.”  He refused, another growl escaping him.

“You’re physically stronger as the wolf.”  She argued.

“Yes, but-”

“I’m not afraid.”  She told him honestly.  “And it’s the only way for you to get us out.” 

“It’ll get worse.”  He whispered.

“I can handle a few growls.”  She said, “I can handle you and I can handle your wolfy lust.”  She said firmly, “Now get us out of here Vilkas!”  She ordered. 

He thought about telling her he wasn’t his brother – he didn’t take orders… but the truth was he would do whatever she wanted of him. 

“Are you sure?”  He asked gravely. 

“Do it.”  She said, bracing herself for the increase in size; Farkas in wolf form had been far bigger than in Human form.  She pressed herself against the wall; her back to him, waiting. 

His hands pressed into the wall, slipping forward as he focussed on the hunt, on his wolf…

His hands ended up on either side of her head, Saadia watching his fingers as they elongated, feeling the air squeezing out of her as he took up more space, hearing angry growls as he complained about how cramped it was.  She was pressed into the wall, completely unable to move.

And then his hands – his paws, she supposed, slammed into the wall as he forced his back against the stone.

She heard the grating of the stone on the floor and felt herself be able to breathe a little easier again. 

She heard the rock crumbling under Vilkas’s hands as he pushed, saw him digging his claws in to get a better grip. 

She started pushing again, putting all her force into it.

That had been a mistake.

Vilkas froze; a deep guttural growl, louder and more powerful than what she was used to.  She froze as she felt his breath on her neck, and heard him growl again. 

His hands dropped from the wall and gripped her hips firmly Saadia gasping, surprised. 

“Keep pushing Vilkas!”  She ordered and his growl snarled out of him aggressively.  But his hands returned to the wall and he pushed again, Saadia staying still this time.  “Push!”  She tried to keep his mind focussed, but his hands returned to her hips, pulling her to him, his jaw closing over the back of her neck.

Saadia stopped breathing, completely in shock, a deep growl breaking the silence.  She’d seen wolves rutting in the wild; the male often bit the scruff of the neck of the female… she knew what was happening and she could feel his erection pressing into the back of her thighs.

“Vilkas.”  She said calmly, “You will push that stone away, and you will do nothing else.”  She said in a calm, even, and very firm voice. 

He snorted, his breath hot on her neck.  And then instantly let go.  There was a pause, a light lick on her neck, in way of an apology, and his hands returned to the walls, pushing as hard as he could. 

The rock screamed and as soon as he had enough room to turn, Vilkas did, tearing at the small gap he’d opened up until he could get through. 

And then he was gone. 

Saadia peered out of the torn apart gap, looking for Vilkas.  She saw him in the darkest corner of the room, crouched down, his eyes on her. 

“Please come out of the shadows Vilkas.”  She said softly as she climbed through the hole.  “I don’t know why you’ve chosen to go over there.”  She stood in the middle of the room, “But I can guess… you don’t want me to see you like that, you’re embarrassed by the growling or, you want me to feel safe…”  She dropped her head to the side.  “You know, you staying in the shadows watching me, makes me feel a lot more like a predator / prey situation than if you’d just come out here.  Please.”  She said gently. 

He hesitated and then walked out on two legs.  It was strange how they could walk on 2 or 4 legs equally well. 

He was huge.  A much bigger werewolf than Farkas.  He had similar colouring, but shaggier hair.  She noted his erect penis and kept her eyes above the waistline.  He dropped to 4 legs and walked up to her, sitting in front of her.  He was silent, making no gentle noises as Farkas had. 

She reached out her hand and he pulled away.

“Don’t be a child.”  She said and reached out again.  This time he didn’t move, but his eyes didn’t leave her face.  She stroked his head gently, “See, nothing to worry about.”  She said, “Nothing to be ashamed about, no guilt or embarrassment.”  She put her other hand under his chin, “Nothing to be afraid of.”  She grinned, “You’re very strong.”  She continued, “It’s very, very impressive.”  She scratched behind his ear and he moved his head to make it easier for her.  “You know, I knew we’d get out of this alive.”  She went on, “And as soon as we got trapped in that hole and I saw how big that stone slab was… I knew you’d get us out.  Even though you don’t like to turn; I knew you’d do what had to be done.”  He made a soft noise, “You don’t get to disagree here.”  She said, “You can’t talk!”  She chuckled, “Did you have a plan, or were you really going to give up your life for me?”  She asked him, looking into his eyes.  He made no noise or sign, “You’re just as stubborn as a werewolf I see.”  She said and stroked his snout gently, “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever known anyone who would actually give their life for me.”  She said, “Why would you do that?”  She asked him, “No doing that!”  She insisted, “I don’t like the idea of you dying, okay?”  He made another soft noise.  “I’ll take that as you agreeing with me and promising to never die.”  She said and he made a snorting sound, “We make a good team, don’t you think?”  She said, “It’s funny considering how our relationship started; you didn’t really like me at all!  But now I trust you more than anyone.”  She confessed.  “I know you’ll get me out of any trouble I get myself in.  I know I can rely on you.  And I think you don’t mind me so much anymore.”  She grinned, “You know, I think you’re easier to talk to like this.  Less intimidating.”  She said and noticed that he was starting to shrink in size.  “I should have known that’d make you turn back!”  She laughed, “Have to come back to argue with me.”  She stepped back as he turned back into Vilkas. 

He was crouching on the floor, looking down, completely naked, his armour all around him on the floor. 

He stood up, his eyes closed; Saadia knew he was getting his own head back, so she said nothing. 

Her mouth opened when she caught sight of his still erect penis.  She had to stop herself from making a sound; it was huge.  He wasn’t much bigger than Farkas in real terms, but with his slightly smaller body, the difference was marked.  Saadia could only think that the wolf desire must still be going strong in him right now…

He looked up at her and saw where her eyes where, and looked down at himself.

“Damn it to Oblivion.”’ He turned away and she realised she’d been staring.

“Oh… I’m sorry…”  She said.

“It’s fine.”  He said tightly and bent to get his leather pants.  “You shouldn’t have to see this.”  He added as he pulled them up and Saadia turned away, seeing him struggle to get this pants on over his erection, swearing to himself.

“I’ve had worse things happen to me.”  She tried to remind him what she had been like when she had been poisoned by a Corrupted Shade by repeating what he had said to her then.  But he didn’t respond.

She decided to walk to the door and look out at where all the rocks from the ceiling had gone; the tunnel was completely blocked, she could see dozens of crushed bodes and smiled with satisfaction.

When she turned back, Vilkas was still dancing around with his pants, growing increasingly annoyed, trying to get the lacing up.  She decided to check some of the hidden rooms to see if there was another way out of this place.  Part of the room had been blocked off; the roof completely caved in.  They might still be in a stone tomb. 

Vilkas started to strap his thigh plating on over his pants, still uncomfortably complaining to himself.

Eventually he was completely dressed and he took a deep breath, glad to be in fresher air; the smell of her wasn’t so close, it didn’t surround him, making it impossible to think of anything else than being inside of her. 

He looked up and saw her looking into each of the hidden rooms. 

He wondered how long she had known about the mating growl.  What she truly thought about that.  Did she really think it was only his wolf that wanted her? 

He thought of everything she’d said, watching her checking out each doorway.

“You find me intimidating?”  He asked finally.  She turned to him, standing across the room.

“Sometimes.”  She answered honestly. 

“I’m sorry.  I don’t mean to… I mean I did at first… but not anymore.”  He said.

“It’s alright; you’re just an intimidating man.”  She saw him lower his eyes, “that’s not a bad thing Vilkas.”  She reassured him.

“I find you intimidating sometimes.”  He admitted, his eyes still lowered. 

“Good.”  She said and he looked up at her, a smile finally coming to his face.  “I can only see one possible way out.”  She said, “I just hope that none of those bastards had the shard.”  She said, “Didn’t think of that in my plan.”  She sounded guilty.

“You kept us alive, don’t worry about that.”  He answered.  “And I have a feeling it’s not here anyway; this place was set up to be a trap.” 

“They led us here; that’s why they fled in the direction they did.”  She said, “Do you think the whole thing has just been a trap… that there is no shard?”

“I think there is a shard.”  He said, “I just think they’ve got it well guarded; far better than we anticipated.”

“I hope so.”  She said, “So you’re good to go?”  She asked, “Back to being you?” 

“Yes, it’s much easier now.”  He said slowly, lowering his eyes. 

“You have nothing to be ashamed of.”  She told him and he shook his head slowly. 

“I have the filth of a Daedra in my blood.”  He said, his lip curling in disgust. 

“I understand this is hard for you… I don’t understand why because I don’t understand what you’re ashamed of.  You tell me that warriors have many reasons that they win battles and to use all the boons you have – that it doesn’t matter where the victory came from… just that you’re alive at the end of it… but then you go against all of that with your Beastblood.”

“It’s not the same.”

“Nonetheless.”  She said, “You have nothing to be ashamed of.  You don’t have to constantly repress yourself, especially around me.” 

“I am not repressed.”  He said as he began to walk across the room to her, ready to smell her again; he had himself under control… “I just keep things under control.

“You do have dictionaries in Skyrim, right?”  She asked with a straight face.

“Yes.”  He answered sourly.

“And he’s back.”  She said, turning to look down the tunnel.  “Shall we?”  She said. 

“The way you talk…”  He said shaking his head, not making a move to go down the tunnel.  “You talk as if a curse from a Daedra is a good thing.”

Saadia sighed and leaned against the wall, folding her arms. 

“Honestly Vilkas, I think that these curses or blessings we’ve got - they can be what you make them.”  She answered and he rolled his eyes, “Listen, I could turn being the Dragonborn into the biggest curse for Skyrim…”  She said and he shook his head, “I could!  I could kill with impunity.  Just as you could with your curse.  But neither of us do.”  She said pointedly, “Instead we both work for the greater good.”

“It makes no difference what I do in this life; I will never see Sovngarde as a wolf.”  He answered.  “I can work my whole life to try to turn this curse to good.  And I still won’t be allowed to enter Sovngarde.”

“Then the Gods are wrong.”  She said and Vilkas grunted in annoyance, “They’re wrong to reject you from Sovngarde simply because Hircine has touched you.”  She said fiercely, “You are a deserving warrior who has done so much good… they have no right to keep you out!” 

Vilkas stared at her, utterly stunned by her words.

“You talk as if we can reject the Gods.”  He asked in shock.

“I think we can.”

“How can you say that – you have been blessed by Akatosh, Kynareth and Talos!  You would reject them?”  He was stunned.

“I would reject anyone that rejects you.”  She said vehemently, “the Circle.”  She added.

“You cannot mean that.”

“I do.”

“Then take the blood and be one of us!  Be cursed by the Daedra and reject the Aedra!”  He said forcefully, “see how you feel then, when the shame of what this truly is-”

“You should not be ashamed of what you are Vilkas!”  She cut in over the top of him.

“Nor should you be!”  He returned angrily, “I have seen how you struggle to take on the mantle of Dragonborn!”

“And I suppose you would do it so much better?”  She accused.

“I would be different.” 

“You would call out that you are Dragonborn from the castle walls, let everyone know your pride, watch their jaws and pants drop for you?”  She asked scathingly, “Let them believe you are a God, or the reincarnation of a God, or the decedent of a God… or that you may be elevated to the status of a God when you die…”

“I-” Vilkas began, not even sure what to say.  “People do not drop their pants for you because you are Dragonborn.”  He said, trying to catch up with everything she’d said.  “You cannot believe that of Farkas.”  He added, “He had no idea you were Dragonborn when-”

“I don’t mean him.”  Saadia clarified, “but yes, people do… Don’t you see how easy it would be to control and manipulate people as Dragonborn…?”  She asked.  “As I said, you have turned what you think of as a curse into a blessing for the people of Skyrim… and it would be so easy for me to turn this… blessing into a curse for them.”  She debated passionately, “These gifts we have Vilkas – they are what we make them.”

There was a long moment of silence while he looked at her, not sure what to make of everything she had said.

“I suppose we both have some work to do on self-acceptance.”  He said softly, his mind returning to Sovngarde.  But his usual feeling of revulsion for himself was tempered by her somehow.  He didn’t know if he liked that, or if he was damning himself to the Hunting Grounds by listening to her words, by letting himself hate himself less.  Kodlak had always told him not hate himself too; to hate the beast, not himself… but Vilkas found it hard to draw a line between the two. 

“I suppose we do.”  She said, “Shall we go now?”  She said, “I’m really ready to get out of here.”

“As am I.”  He answered grimly. 

They started to head down the tunnel, Saadia leading.  She pulled her warhammer out, ready for attack, for ambush; this was the Silver-Hand, after all.  The tunnel eventually went from being newly cut to old ruins; the tunnel breaking through the wall of a corridor.  To the left was blocked by a cave in, so they went right, Saadia keeping an eye out for old traps; these were looking like Nord ruins again. 

But the corridor ended in a pool of stagnant water.

“Damn.”  She said under her breath.  “There’s no other way out.”  She said, “The roof collapse I caused, closed off the way we came in… I checked the room.  This was it.” 

Vilkas sighed and looked at the pool of water. 

“Maybe we can dig our way out or something?” 

“Ugh.”  She said, “Let me check if this water leads anywhere.  In my experience, sometimes it does in these old ruins.” 

She heard Vilkas making a noise of not liking this just before she dived under the water.

She swam along, thankfully it was more or less a straight corridor, no draugr, and it led up to a clean, empty cave. 

But it was a long swim under water, Saadia was gasping for air when she got to the other side. 

She got out of the water and looked around; a shallow, empty cave.  She looked outside; it was dark. 

“Good place to camp.”  She supposed.  It was right in Silver-Hand territory, she knew, but as far as camp sites went around here, this one was easily defended.  And she didn’t think they should be travelling at night – the Silver-Hand had upped their game considerably and night-time ambushes were harder to avoid or successfully attack.

She started to worry about Aela and Farkas; she wondered if the Silver-Hand had somehow orchestrated the Dragon attack to separate them.

“Unlikely.”  She admitted, but they had known that they were separated, and had used it to their advantage. 

She took a deep breath and returned back through the tunnel.  When she got back, Vilkas was pacing slightly, staring at the water, highly agitated.  He let out a breath of relief when her head broke the surface.

“What’s wrong?’  She asked, noting his heightened state of alertness.

“Nothing… you were just gone for a while.”  He said. 

“I just had a look around.”  She explained as she got out of the water.  “There’s a cave, good for camping the night, on the other side.” 

“It’s night time already?”  He was surprised. 

“We were stuck in that alcove for a long time.”  She said.  “I’d have thought that every moment you were forced to be pressed up against me would be a moment etched in your memory; one you’d relive in your nightmares.”  She teased, “Or maybe you’ve already wiped it from your memory… done a Farkas...”  She added with a grin.  He looked away and she laughed; she’d said something that he hadn’t liked.  He usually looked away like that when she was talking about rutting with Farkas.  But she’d noticed him doing it more often lately; especially whenever she said things like this.  She had a feeling that Farkas had been right all along; his brother did like her, and begrudgingly respected her too, no doubt.  She grinned merrily and laughed as he took a deep breath, staring at the rocks for a while before looking back at her. 

“Do you think camping is a wise idea Shield-sister?”

“We can’t all have wolf senses.”  Saadia answered sourly, “Night-time is dangerous when I don’t know the lay of the land at all, or what kind of ambushes they have… I don’t even know if that cave opens up on Skyrim or Cyrodiil.  We are right near the border.” 

“A wise decision.”  He conceded. 

“However, they probably weren’t all killed by that cave-in, some would have had a chance to run before the stones and made it out alive, and we’re right in the middle of their territory.  So I don’t want to camp out in the open.  I think that cave is possibly the safest bet at the moment.”

“We could stay in here over night.”  He said, his eyes turning to the water. 

“I suppose so.”  She agreed, “But I’d rather have the night by the fire to dry off, so we can get going in the morning immediately.”  She said, “I’d rather not waste the time drying off in the morning, and I’d rather not be leaving wet drip marks after us, if we don’t.”  She explained. 

“Good points…”  Vilkas said, his eyes on the water again, “And there’s no other way out?”  He asked.

“Not that I saw, but we can go search again, if you want?”  She asked, wondering what was going on. 

“No…. no I trust you searched thoroughly.”  He said.  She saw his hands ball into fists and then loosen, then ball again. 

“It’s a long swim, so you’ll have to take a deep breath.”  She said, “And I should go first, to guide the way.”  She said and saw his eyes fixate on the water. 

“Not a problem.”  He said in a numb voice. 

“Alright…”  Saadia said, as she got back in the water.  She turned and waited for him. 

Vilkas took a deep breath, glad she didn’t have wolf sense right now; his heart was racing.  But he made himself get into the water.  Almost immediately the pool was too deep and he made a noise of panic; he simply couldn’t stop the sound escaping him.  He liked to have his feet on the ground when he was in water.  He reached for the edge of the pool and pulled his upper body out of the water, leaning on the edge, gasping.  Saadia leaned on the edge beside him. 

“You okay?”  She asked.

“Absolutely fine.”  He said, feeling the weight of his armour more than ever.  “Why wouldn’t I be?”  He said, staring at the opposite wall, trying to get his breathing under control. 

“You seem… kind of anxious…?”  She said as diplomatically as she could. 

“Warriors of my calibre do not get anxious.”  He said firmly, “We assess situations, we can be cautious… we are aware of our surroundings and…”  He took another deep breath.  “I am a Companion, initiated member of the Circle… one of the most skilled fighters in Tamriel… I don’t get anxious.”  He said again, “I know my skill, I trust in my weapon, I- I size up my opponents quickly, I gauge risks accurately…”

“Uh huh, and you’re afraid of water.”  She said simply.

“I am not afraid of water!”  He spat angrily. 

“Swimming, then…?  Getting your head under water!”  She realised, thinking back to him bathing at the stream, then back to swimming at the lake at her estate, then further back, to fishing and swimming outside of Whiterun. 

“No.”  He said firmly, but his voice was not convincing. 

“It’s alright.”  She said simply, “I’m afraid of heights.”  She reminded him, “Except I can’t even pretend to hide it from you bloody werewolves.”  She sighed and he gave her an appreciative smile.

“I can’t swim.”  He said reluctantly.  She said nothing, waiting for him to finish his confession.  “I can’t… I - I can’t stand to have my face underwater.”  He finally said. 

“We’ve all got our thing.”  She said and he nodded, grateful for her support.  “Unfortunately Vilkas… There’s no other way forward but through this flooded tunnel.”  She said gently.

“I know.”  He said, his eyes still on the opposite wall, his breathing slightly laboured. 

“We’ll get you through this Vilkas.”  She said, putting her hand on his. 

“There’s nothing to get through.”  He said gritting his teeth, “I don’t fear any-” But he stopped himself and looked at her.  “You can never tell anyone.”

“Tell anyone what?”  She feigned no knowledge and he gave her a small, grateful smile.  “I know you can do this Vilkas.”  She said and saw him slightly shake his head, “I know it.”  She repeated, firmer. 

“Alright.”  He said reluctantly. 

“Okay, so the first thing to do is try and clear your mind.”

“I know.”  He said nodding.

“And you can’t do that unless you acknowledge what you’re thinking and feeling.” 

“I’ve acknowledged it.”  He answered testily, keeping his eye son the far wall. 

“What would you have done if you were here alone?”  She asked.

“Dug my way out.”  He answered. 

“You’d have died of starvation before getting out of here that way.”  She said, “because I know your sense of survival is stronger than that…”  She continued, “What would you have done?”

“Focussed on my breathing, cleared my mind…”

“Would you have tried to convince yourself that you were a strong warrior that was afraid of nothing?”  She asked gently.

“No, I already know that.”  He said and then sighed, understanding her point. 

“You do know that I know that too, yes?”

“It’s just…” He lowered his eyes, “Did it have to be you?”  He said looking away, and Saadia was given the back of his head again to look at again.  “You always see me at my worst… I’ve already had to turn in front of you today… why this too?”  He complained in soft grumble to himself. 

“I had no idea my good opinion of you mattered so much.”  She said softly and he turned his face slowly to look at her, but his eyes stayed lowered. 

“It does.”  He answered, praying she wouldn’t ask him why.

“Likewise.”  She told him, “Always has… remember me standing there in Jorrvaskr, trying to convince you I was more than a wench to warm your brother’s bed.”  She chuckled and he looked up at her, “I don’t know why it mattered so much, but I was determined that you would see me as an equal warrior to you.  And I personally thinks wenches are brilliant.  Still I wanted you to think of me as nothing but an equal warrior.” 

“And I don’t.”  He said, a cheeky grin almost making it to his face.

“We both know you’re the more skilled fighter.”  She sighed.

“I think you’re a better warrior than I am.”  He countered.  Their eyes met and she squeezed his hand.

“That’s why my good opinion matters so much to you, eh?”  She said with a cheeky grin.

“Yeah.”  He looked away and sucked his teeth.

“You know I don’t think less of you for having Beastblood.”  She said, “Even though you think I’m wrong for that… but then you like being right and me being wrong.”  She teased and he turned back to look at her, “And I do not think less of you for being afraid of being submerged.”  She said firmly, “It makes sense; you can’t breathe like that.  Sounds like solid survival instincts to me.”  She continued.  “It’s smart.” 

“You are-” But he stopped himself, lowering his eyes again. 

“You can say it.”  She told him, “Tell me I’m wrong – I don’t care, because I know I’m right, and I will argue with you for as long as I need to.  So say it.” 

“A good friend.”  He said softly and she laughed.

“Come on Vilkas, I know when you’re lying.”  She said and he looked up at her.

“I was going to say you are a magnificent woman.”  He lowered his eyes again, Saadia’s eyes staying on his face.  “But saying you’re a good friend seemed to sum things up more… accurately.”  He said, looking away.  Saadia didn’t know what to make of his words, so she took them at face value; she was a good friend to him. 

“I’m honoured to be your friend Vilkas.”  She said, “Your Shield-sister.”  He nodded in reply, but didn’t look back at her.  “Anyway, now that you’ve acknowledged what’s in your head…” She said gently, “We can try to get your mind still and silent.”  She pulled on his hand and he turned back to look at her.  “Keep your eyes on my eyes.”  She said, “My sister taught me this.  When I was younger I was utterly terrified of heights.  I mean terrified, I couldn’t move, I couldn’t go on a first storey balcony even... Both of my balconies at Lakeview Manor would have been too much for me.  But she helped me get it under control.”  She explained and he looked into her eyes as instructed, “Nothing else exists, only my eyes.”  She put her arm over his shoulders and gently turned him towards her, her hands on his upper arms once she had him square on.  “There is no room that we’re in, no water, no Skyrim, only my eyes, and the air going in and out of your lungs.”  She told him, “Follow my breathing, in.”  She took a deep breath, “And out.”  She let her breath out slowly, “Nothing else exists but my eyes, not your warrior pride, not your worries for your brother, not your fears for your afterlife, not even the water we’re in exists.  Nothing is.  Nothing, except my eyes.  Breathe in.”  He followed her breathing, focussed intently on her eyes, “And out.”  She very slowly started to let them sink into the water, “There are no Dragons, no Dragonborn, no Hircine, no Beastblood, no Silver-Hand, no shards of Wuuthrad, no Companions, no Circle, there is nothing but my eyes.  In as deep as you can.”  She told him and he followed her words, breathing in deeply, “And out slowly, very, very slowly.”  And still she let them sink slowly into the water.  “There is no Skjor, no Aela, No Saadia, No Kodlak, No Farkas… There isn’t even a Vilkas, there is only my eyes and your deep, deep breaths in, filling up your entire lungs, and then out, as slow as possible.”  Another deep breath, “And with every moment you look at my eyes, you feel more and more peaceful, with every breath you take, you feel more relaxed.”  Another deep breath in and out.  “Your mind sinks deeper into my eyes, you exist within my eyes… there is nothing but my eyes.  Deep breath in.”  She said and let them finally sink completely under the water.  She saw the panic start to come back into his eyes underwater.  But she pointed at her eyes and he stared into them, sinking back into their depth far easier than she had expected; he already had a disciplined mind.  She let a bubble escape her mouth to let him know to slowly let his breath out.

They stayed under water until all their breaths had been slowly released, Saadia knew she could stay under for longer, but she grabbed the wall and pulled them both back up slowly. 

He took a shuddering breath, obviously still afraid, but far more able to manage it now.  He nodded slowly.

“Alright.”  He whispered. 

“We can do that as many times as you need to, until you feel more confident about going the whole way.”  She said gently. 

“No.”  He said with a voice strained with fear, “I can’t keep going up and down, I need to just go.” 

“It’s a long way to swim.”

“I can do it.”  He said, “I can do it.”  He repeated to himself. 

“Okay.”  She said, her tone showing that she completely believed him and he felt a wash of confidence.  “Come to my eyes.”  She said and he nodded, letting her guide him back through the whole process, until finally. “A really big, deep breath.”  She told him, and they slipped under the water.  Saadia guided the way, going backwards through the water, so he could keep his eyes on her eyes, feeling her way along the wall with her hand, the other hand holding his. 

They made decent progress, but Saadia knew they had to get a move on as they both slowly started to let their breaths out. 

She sped them up slightly and Vilkas handled the change of pace admirably; his eyes staying focussed on hers, his hand gripping hers extremely tightly. 

A small fish swam past, but Vilkas kept his eyes on Saadia’s, he let his breath out slowly, trying to keep his pulse as slow as possible, trying to find nothing in existence but her eyes… that was not as hard as it sounded. 

And then they both ran out of air to let out of their lungs.  Saadia knew it was only a matter of time until their lungs started burning; and then she didn’t know if he would be able to stop himself from panicking. 

She tried to speed them up some more.  She wanted to look up the corridor and try to gauge how much further they had, but she wasn’t sure if he would handle it if she did; he was very focused on her eyes.  So she kept her eyes on his and kept going, his fingers tightening around her hand. 

Her lungs started to burn; she was going much slower this time than she had the first time through, and she had possibly underestimated how much slower this trip would be. 

And then it happened, the look of fear came into his eyes and he broke eye contact.  Saadia knew he was gone, so she quickly looked over shoulder; they were almost there.  She turned back to him and saw him staring all around him, bubbles rising as he opened his mouth; speaking or screaming, she didn’t know, he pulled on her hand, about to let go of her.  But she grabbed his face hard, holding his head still, forcing him to look into her eyes.  She pointed at her eyes again.  She could feel his body shaking, could see he was struggling; he needed to breathe now.  But she could see the focus returning to his eyes.  She saw his free hand rise and hover just a few centimetres from her cheek, before closing into a fist, and lowering back to his side.  He nodded once and she got them moving again, faster still, his hand gripping her tighter than ever, his eyes locked on hers. 

When they broke the surface on the other side they both gasped for air loudly and Saadia threw her arms around his neck.

“I told you, you could do it!”  She said, panting heavily.  She felt his arms around her waist, unexpectedly returning the hug.

“And you’re always right.”  He panted, dropping his head onto her shoulder, his eyes closed, his chest rising and falling heavily as he struggled to repackage all that fear and emotion.  She stroked his hair gently as his head rested on her shoulder, understanding his fear and wanting to comfort him. 

And he turned his head towards her neck, smelling her scent, his cheek brushing hers as he raised his head, and their eyes met, her breath on his face. 

She saw his eyes drop to her mouth, and then return to her eyes, and she thought she saw something in them; a clear desire to do something impulsive.  Saadia’s breath caught, and her heart seemed to skip a beat, but he looked away, and that strange look in his eyes disappeared as he pulled himself together. 

She watched him swim to the edge and pull himself out of the water, while she tried to decipher what had just happened.  She supposed it was only normal for them to feel a deep connection after defeating certain death and facing fears together.  Yes, that was it; this is what it felt like to have real mateship - a true warrior comrade that she could rely on, that she could trust her life with, that trusted his life with her. 

She swam to the edge and Vilkas held his hand down to her.  She took it and he pulled her out of the water as she used her other hand to lift herself out. 

“Thanks.”  She said and pushed him slightly.  “I told you!”  She repeated and he laughed.

“Yes you did.”  He said and pulled his armour off.  “Let’s get a fire going; it’s cold in here.” 

Vilkas had kept a few logs from the campfire they’d made the other day; he too had one of Farengar’s magic satchels.  She decided not to mention that for someone who hated magic, he sure did love his enchanted bottomless satchel… But that was Vilkas – filled with equal measures love and hate, it seemed.  He set the fire close to the back wall and they laid their clothes to dry in front of the fire and sat in blankets on the other side of the fire, their backs to the wall, both the pool and the opening to the cave in front of them, their weapons close.

Saadia had some preserved food that she shared with Vilkas and they ate in comfortable silence, staring at the fire. 

“Can I ask…?”  She paused and he turned to look at her, “Why are you… so much bigger than your brother?”  She asked and he cocked an eyebrow at her.

“You’re going to have to clarify that.”  The corner of his mouth twitched up and she knew he was thinking dirty. 

“I mean, in Beastform.”  She said.

“Ah.”  He said, the mirth still in his eyes, but the dirty thoughts seemingly gone.

“I mean in Human form, you’re a little smaller, but in Beastform…”  She held her hands out to indicate that he was huge.  He sighed and made a reluctant noise as he looked out over the cave.

“There’s… ways…. To make yourself stronger in every way as a werewolf.”  He said carefully and Saadia had a feeling he wouldn’t elaborate no matter how much he asked. 

“And you used those ways more than Farkas did.”  She understood.

“I did.”  He said reluctantly, “But I’d rather not talk about it.” 

“Sorry.”

“No need to be sorry, I just can’t have you knowing all our wolfy secrets.”  He said with a grin.  But Saadia saw something dark behind his eyes; something filled with shame and guilt.  Whatever it was he’d done to grow his strength was not something he was proud of, and not something he’d done in a long time. 

“Alright.”  She said, letting it drop, for now. 

“I just have to ask… Hircine fucks like a beast?”  He asked and she broke out into laughter.

“Seemed like a good thing to say piss her off.”  She said and he laughed too.  “And you know, he probably does.”  She said with a shrug and Vilkas shook his head.

“How can you joke about such things.  The Daedra are evil and-”

“Because it’s funny.”  She said, “He’s the God of the hunt, Vilkas, he’s dark and gives the Beastblood to humans, he’s wild and… I bet he fucks like a beast.”  She shrugged again.

“I hope you never find out.”  He said and she shrugged again. 

“I don’t know Vilkas… There’s something enticing about the whole thing.”  She said, teasing, “Especially the knowledge that werewolf sex is supposed to be wild and rough and unfettered.”  She laughed at the look on his face, “You’ve already gotten to enjoy all the boons of being a werewolf before rejecting it… you still do.  Don’t judge me too harshly for wanting some of those boons.”  She said and his eyes softened.

“Do you really want it?”  He asked. 

“Oh I don’t know!”  She said wistfully, “Imagine being faster and stronger and having super-senses – by the Gods who in their right mind would want all of that!”  She joked, “Of course it’s interesting… inviting even.”  She added.

He took his dagger from where he’d laid it nearby and turned to look at her.

“If you really want it,” He said putting the dagger to his bare forearm, “I will give it to you.”  He pressed the blade to his skin, but didn’t draw blood; his eyes were on her face, awaiting her word. 

“So it has to do with blood?”  She asked, her eyes on the blade.

“Yes.”  He said, “You would drink my blood, and it would transfer my infection to you.”  His eyes followed her fingers as she reached out and ran them down his forearm, her mouth open.

“That’s quite…”

“Disgusting?”  He asked.

“Intimate.”  She said, looking up into his eyes. 

“Yes.”  He agreed, his eyes on hers.

“Quite an intimate bond.  To have your blood inside of me forever.”  She said.

“Yes.”  He agreed, “But it’s a bond I’m willing to share with you… if you truly want it.” 

“But you’ve been so against it.”

“I can’t deny you.”  He says simply, “I just can’t deny you anything you want.” 

“Because I’m your Shield-sister… because I’m Dovahkiin.”  She said and he shook his head and took her hand, putting it on a tattoo he had over his chest.  It was a new tattoo, still not fully healed, of a beautiful black dragon, the one eye showing was blue, and its head was turned so that the fire it was breathing flowed out behind it, almost looking like red hair running down its back.

“Because you matter to me.”  He answered, and Saadia thought she could hear so much more behind his words. 

“That tattoo…?”  She said looking at it.

“It’s you.”  He volunteered the information; something she wasn’t used to.  “It symbolises you.”

“Why would you get a tattoo of me?”

“Because I get tattoos of the important things that have happened in my life.”  He pointed with the dagger to various tattoos, “This is when I became a werewolf,” He pointed to the wolf that prowled over his shoulder, “this is first time I had sex,” An abstract piece of art below his navel, it had a strange curvy sexual quality, “The necromancer that took us,” lightening up his forearm that looked like his very veins, “This is when I turned Farkas.”  Another wolf, this one on his calf and shin; the foundation of his strength.

“You turned Farkas?  As in, it was your blood?”  She asked and he nodded. 

“The Circle left the decision in my hands and I asked him if he wanted it, knowing full well he’d go wherever I went…”

“Your heart is filled with so much guilt.”  She said softly, looking at her hand, already over his heart, over the tattoo that symbolised her.

“You haven’t asked yourself if I know full well what you’ll say.”  He said, his eyelids heavy, his full lips opened as his eyes dropped to her mouth. 

“Why do you have tattoos and Farkas doesn’t?”  She ignored his question.

“He doesn’t like the permanence of them.”  Vilkas answered.

“And you do.”  She understood, “you like the idea of forever.” 

“Perhaps.”  He answered, and watched her eyes drop to the tattoo of the black Dragon on his chest, her fingers tracing along the image. 

“I’m going to forever be a part of your life.”  She said, her eyes on the Dragon, and he couldn’t read what she was thinking or feeling, what she meant by that.  Her eyes raised to his and she smiled, “No matter what I choose, I’m in the Circle, I’m Dragonborn, and you’ve taken it upon yourself to protect me.  I know that, because you were willing to give your life for me.”  She said and he nodded.  “And you’re willing to go against what you want, what you believe - for me; should I want the Beastblood.”  She said and he nodded again, “Do you see what a poison the Dragon Blood is Vilkas?”  She said softly, “What it’s done to you?  What you’re willing to do because of it.” 

“I stand by my beliefs Dovahkiin, it’s a blessing – you’re a blessing.”  He pressed the dagger back to his forearm, “What do you want, woman?”  He asked.  “New blood, Companion, Thane… Dovahkiin.”

“But never Saadia.”

“Never.”  He said, “Perhaps.”  He added softly.  “Do you want it?” 

“I don’t know.”  She answered.  “I honestly don’t know Vilkas.  I ask the questions because I’m trying to figure out if I…”

“Take your time.”  He said, putting the dagger away.  “Will you take the blood from me if you choose to take it?  Or Farkas, or…?”

“I don’t know.  I hadn’t thought about it.”  She whispered, leaning back and wrapping the blanket around her, “I don’t think Farkas would do it, even if he had your blessing.”

“Perhaps.”  He said and looked away.  She let out a breath, feeling like this conversation had been the most intimate thing she’d ever experienced and not fully understanding how or why. 

They sat in silence for a while, Vilkas stoking the fire with a branch, Saadia taking in all of the tattoos she could see, wondering about their stories.

“What’s that one?”  She asked, touching a tattoo on his back of a bird, and then she saw the dates; a birth date and a recent death date.  “Nurie.”  She said and he nodded.  “She liked birds?”

“Yeah.”  He said with a reminiscent smile.  “Used to keep them in her room.  I had the bird done a long time ago… the dates more recently.”  There was a moment of silence. 

“I think it’s beautiful that you mark everything important in your life like this.”  She said. 

“It’s important to remember.”  He said. 

“What was she like?” 

“Fierce.”  He said with a smile, “And very tender too, very loving of small innocent things.”

“Like birds.”  Saadia guessed.

“Oh yeah.  And Rabbits, things like that.”  He shook his head, “Wouldn’t eat them.”  He laughed slightly, “But the things she’d eat as a wolf!” 

“Sometimes the wolf and the Human want different things.” 

“Yeah but she loved the wolf so much.  She was proud to be a werewolf.  And she…”  His eyes lit up, “She’d never back down.  Never.” 

“I bet you fought a lot.”  She said and he nodded.

“And it almost always turned sexy.”  He laughed.  “She thought I was a stubborn horker’s arse.”  He laughed, “Too traditional, too Nord… too anti-wolf… but we respected each other.”

“You loved her very much.”

“I suppose I did.”  Vilkas said slowly. 

“I thought love was very simple for a Nord.”

“It usually is, but… I knew I could never walk this life with her.”  He said, “I knew we weren’t built for that.  I assumed it was because both of us just weren’t the marrying type.”

“You can love someone and not want to marry them.”  Saadia opined.

“Not usually in Skyrim.”  He said with a laugh, “Life is short and brutal here, normally if we love someone, we commit fully almost immediately.  Engagements last just a day usually.”

“Wow…”  Saadia said thinking of Camilla and Faendal’s long engagement.  But neither of them were Nords.

“Yeah, go to the temple of Mara in Riften, tell them you want to get married and usually the ceremony happens the next day; unless the temple is already booked.”  He told her.  “We love hard, we marry quick, we die young.”  He said with a shrug, “The life of a Nord.” 

“But not for you.”  She said and he shrugged.

“I do love hard though.”  He mumbled. 

“I bet.”  She said and he cocked an eyebrow at her, “It’s just… it suits you to love hard, with your whole self.  You never do anything by half.  Nurie was lucky.” 

“I was lucky.”  He answered, not looking at her.  “Tell me of someone you love?”  He said and she shrugged.

“My life on the Isle of Stirk was all about survival, and then consumed by trying to get off the island, I never loved any of the sailors I bedded… I just wanted one of them to like me enough to get me off the island.”  She shrugged again, awkwardly, “I care a lot about Farkas… I don’t know if it’s love.”  She said considering it, “but I wonder if I’m capable of that kind of thing.  I spent so much of my life deprived of any kind of… positive emotion.”  She shook her head sadly, “But the Companions have been… my family.”  She said and Vilkas couldn’t help but smile when her lips turned up into a happy smile, “I think I’ve felt some positive emotions for the first time, since I’ve been here…. Like mateship.”  She said looking at him, “And trust and pride and honour…  Although I suppose us Shield-maidens did have our version of those…”  She laughed at herself, “And yes, love I suppose… I’ve been thinking of it as a kind of love – this positive feeling I have for all of you.”  She said. 

“That horse has bolted Dovahkiin, you already told me you love us all.”  He teased.

“I suppose I did.”  She agreed happily.  “So I don’t really have a Nurie story… unless you want to make Farkas my Nurie story…”  She paused, “I hope not.”  She suddenly looked very worried, “I don’t want the Silver-Hand to get him.”  She looked at the entrance to the cave, “Do you think they’re alright?”

“I’m sure of it.”  He said.  But Saadia saw the fear in his eyes.

“You don’t have to comfort me.”  She said.  “I can see you’re worried.”

“Of course I’m worried.  I always worry about him.”  Vilkas said, “But I’d know if he was dead.  We’ve been together since the womb, we’ll be together till we both die.”

“That is comforting.”  Saadia said.  “But you can take my mind off worrying about both of them by telling me about your first time!”  She said with a cheeky grin.

“I opened myself up for this when I showed you my tattoo didn’t I?”  He said and she nodded.  “Alright.”  He sighed and she scooted closer to him, wrapping the blanket closer around her shoulders; it was cold.  “Her name was Gisgerd.  She was a few years older than me.”

“What did she look like?”

“She was a Nord woman… uh, red hair, hazel eyes, freckles.”

“You don’t see a lot of freckles in Skyrim.”  Saadia was enjoying hearing about his younger years.

“I know, she was gorgeous.”  Vilkas laughed, “She uh…”  He looked at Saadia, grinning cheekily.

“Go on!”  She said.

“She had huge breasts.”  He laughed, “And hips twice as wide as mine; she was amazing.  I thought I was just going to get a bit of a feel, you know?”  He said but she shook her head.

“I didn’t have... brothers like that.”  She said, “I don’t know… Tell me everything.”

“Alright, well… the vast, vast majority of teenage boys are… always horny!”  He laughed, “And Farkas and me used to hang around Gisgerd every spare second we had; we were both kind of obsessed with tits.”  She couldn’t help but laugh at the idea of Vilkas as a teenager.  “So when I got some time alone with her, and she kissed me-”

“She kissed you!” 

“Yeah!  I don’t think I would have been brave enough to kiss her.  I was 15, she was 17…”  He shook his head, “I thought I’d get to give them big breasts a good squeeze, and I did!  But after a while of kissing and grabbing… I just, started to lift up her skirts, and she didn’t stop me…”  He shook his head, “I’m much more particular about consent now than I was back then.  Back then, I was just excited to be getting some!”  He shook his head at himself, laughing.  “I slipped it in her as quick as I could, like I was afraid my cock would fall off if I didn’t get it in quick enough!  And it was over far too soon!”  Saadia laughed loudly.

“How soon are we talking?”

“Horny, teenage virgin lad with a handful of tit soon.”  He answered.  “But I tell everyone it was epic, and I made her cum multiple times, and we rutted long into the night.”  He said, “And Gisgerd, bless her, never told anyone the truth.” 

“Bless her.”  Saadia laughed.

“I bedded her dozens of time; she smelled so good and her hair was beautiful, and she was sweet and kind.  And patient; it took me a while to actually make it worth her while!” 

“Where you a wolf then?”

“No.”  He said, confused.

“You just said she smelled good.”

“I had a strong sense of smell before I was turned.”  He said.

“Smell always mattered to you huh?”  She teased.  “Where is she?  I don’t think I’ve met a Gisgerd yet…?”

“She moved away when I was 16.”

“Where you heartbroken?” 

“I was dick-broken.”  He laughed, “Sounds terrible…”  He sighed, “But I had already started noticing other people, and she had started wanting me to be with her exclusively, so it was good timing really… although it took me a while to get any more action!” 

“Poor you!”  She laughed.  “I couldn’t imagine being with one person exclusively.”  She scrunched up her nose.

“Me either.”  He agreed, “Even if I were to wed the person I loved enough to walk this life with… I think I’d miss orgies too much be monogamous.”  Saadia gave him a surprised look, which he saw from the corner of his eye.  He turned and gave her a cheeky grin, “I might not be Farkas, but I still get around.”  He said. 

“Obviously.”  She agreed.

“What was your first time like?”  He asked. 

“Well my father tried very hard to keep the Shield-maidens away from any knowledge of sex.”  She said, “And we slept in huge beds with all our sisters; we were told we’d have our hands cut off if we ever touched ourselves.”  She said, “So I could only ever explore myself when I managed to snatch a few moments alone, which was very rare, and I could only catch a few sentences in books about sex…”  She saw the way Vilkas was looking at her.  “It’s strange to you huh?”  
“Yeah.”  He said, “completely opposite to a Nord upbringing.”  He said.

“I know.  My father abhorred how open and accepting Skyrim had become of sex.  He said it should be strictly regulated and some people shouldn’t be allowed to have sex or pleasure or children.” 

“He sounds very cruel.”

“I was used to it.”  She shrugged.  “When I found that secret way out of the castle…” She shook her head, “It was exhilarating and terrifying at the same time.  And there was this man in the inn… I didn’t know his name, but he was attractive.”

“What did he look like?”

“A little like you… but also not at all like you.”  She said, “But not so strong in the jaw.  Shaved head, blue eyes, dark hair; he had a goatee.”

“So a Nord?”

“Yeah.  And not as big as you.”  She said and he cocked a suggestive eyebrow, “I mean shoulders, muscles…”  She said and then rolled her eyes, “I didn’t cum.  I think I was too scared.  I wasn’t entirely sure what was supposed to happen, and he was rough, it hurt.  I bled.” 

“It shouldn’t hurt.”  Vilkas said, “He wasn’t interested in you and your pleasure.”

“Not even slightly.”  She said, “None of them were until Kluek.  And he was the one who smuggled me off the island.”

“A good man.”  Vilkas said and she nodded.

“I wasn’t so good to him in the end.”  She said sadly. 

“He made a choice.”  Vilkas said, “Do not carry the burden of his choices.  He knew the risks, yes?”

“Yes.”  She agreed. 

“You were really 27?”  He asked and she nodded.  “So… you’ve only been at it for a year?”  She nodded, “And most of those men were not interested in making you enjoy it.”  He stared off for a minute, “I hope the people of Skyrim are showing you a better time?” 

“Yes.”  She said, “I didn’t even know what a Dibellan kiss was until Farkas-” But she stopped herself, “Sorry, I know you don’t like hearing about your brother’s sex life.”  She said.

“I’m hearing about yours, not his.”  He said, noticing that she had chosen not to torture him with it, “Anyway… I’m glad he’s doing it right.  It’s a matter of pride amongst Nord men to give our partners as much pleasure as possible.” 

“Well then you’ll be glad to hear that he’s doing your ancestors proud.”  She said and Vilkas chuckled.

“Good.”  But he looked at her for a long moment, “But… you are new to this… you are bedding other people, yes?  You’re not getting caught up with one person when you’ve got so much exploring and discovering to do…?”

“Of course.”  She said, “It turns Farkas on to hear about it.”  She said, “But… probably not getting out as much as I should…”

“You should get to Gropekunte Lane.”  He said, “It’s the place where all the wenches in Whiterun ply their trade.  You’ll learn plenty there, just by looking around.” 

“I read about wenches in my father’s books; all judging them as bad.  But I always figured if you were good enough to be paid for sex as your skilled trade…”  She said.

“Exactly.  They are skilled workers.  They deserve respect.” 

“I think I’d enjoy heading to Gropekunte Lane… come with me?”  She asked.

“If you want.”  He said, “What are Shield-brothers for?”  He asked.

“Keeping me warm.”  She said and scooted closer still, “Unless that’s only for marriage partners.”  She joked, referring to the shaving she’d given him.  He scoffed softly and put his arm around her shoulders.

“Keep me warm too.”  He said, “It’s cold in these mountains.” 

They sat in silence for a while, neither feeling like sleeping. 

“Do you think differently of me?”  She asked softly.

“No.”  He said, “Everyone has their own relationship with sex.  I’ve known people who have no desire to have sex, and others that must have it multiple times a day; everyone is different.”

“I meant… now that you know I’ve…”

“The girls you killed?”  He asked and she remained silent.  “No.”  He answered.  “How many was it?”

“Two.”  She said softly, her voice barely making a sound.  “My first girl… everyone’s first girl fails the training test though.”  She said, “And then I did everything I could to never have another girl fail.  But… there was another.”  She said.  “I became the most successful trainer; everyone else my age had beheaded dozens of girls.”

“When you were unconscious after the fight with Farkas…” 

“Yes?”

“You had a nightmare… and you begged, pleaded… ‘Don’t make me do it…’”

“Yes.”  She said softly.  “I nearly got myself killed begging my superiors to not have to kill my first failure… I didn’t want to do it.”  He heard the shame in her voice.  “I didn’t know I talked in my sleep…”  She said softly to herself. 

“A little.”  He said, “You should forgive yourself.”  He added.

“I killed 2 defenceless girls… and so many others.”  She said numbly, “It’s not something that you forgive.  There’s no excuse for what I did.”

“There’s a difference between an excuse and an explanation.  There is an explanation for your actions.  You had no choice.”

“I could have died rather than do it.”

“The Gods wouldn’t allow that Dragonborn.”  He said simply, “An explanation doesn’t excuse it… but it does mean the difference between righteous justice being meted out at the end of my axe or… watching you gain penance by adopting every damn stray you come across.”  He said and she looked up at him, “And letting you know that I support you figuring out how to forgive yourself.”

“I don’t think I ever will.”

“Perhaps not.”  He understood, “But your childhood was so messed up…”  He shook his head.

“As was yours.”

“Only when I was with Malkoran.  When the Companions had me I was alright.”  He said, “There’s so many things I want to say to you about your life up until you got to Skyrim… like it wasn’t your fault, and…”  He paused, his hand squeezing her shoulder slightly, “Your father was wrong.” 

“How so?”

“In practically every way.”

“But what specifically?”

“You’re not ugly.”  He said, suddenly very aware of every part of her that was touching him through the blankets. 

“How generous of you to say!”  She was amused.

“Do you want me to say you’re beautiful?”  He asked honesty, “Wouldn’t that just make things awkward?”

“I don’t know.”  She said, looking back down, “Depends on if you mean it.”

“You’re exceptionally beautiful.”  His words hung in the air and she looked back up at him.  “But that shouldn’t matter – you’re a warrior, and what matters is your heart and your fighting ability.”  He told her, “And no one can match those.”

There was silence as she looked at him.

“You keep surprising me.”

“Good.”  He pulled her closer in a rough friendly kind of way and she laughed.  “And also…  your life, Shield-maiden-no-more, is vital, is essential.  It is worth everything.  Your father was wrong about that too; when he treated you like your life was worthless.” 

“Because I am Dovahkiin.”  She said.

“Not just that.”

“Because I am your Shield-sister.”

“Not just that either…”

“Because you think I’m going to become some God someday.  That I can save Skyrim.”

“That’s part of it.  But it’s not all of it.”  He told her, “Listen Shield-sister, I don’t know if you will become a God, but I do know that the Divines are within you.  You have Akatosh’s Blood, Kynareth’s Kiss, and Talos’s power… the Divines walk with you.”

“You don’t see me as I truly am because you think I’m going to be a God.”  He caught the emotion in her voice.

“No, I see you Dovahkiin.”  He said softly, holding her gaze, “Talos was both man and Divine.  There is divinity in you, whether you like it or not and whether you become a God or not.  I do not base my opinion of you on things that have not happened, that may not happen.”  He told her, “You are Human, just as Talos was, and just like Talos, you are a complex person.  And I see your humanity.  I see you; I know who you are woman.” 

“Do you though?”  He could hear the need in her voice.

“I know you killed innocent children.”  He said, “I see your darkness.”

“And you still think I am… a descendant of a God?”

“More than ever.”  He said unwaveringly, “Talos had his darkness too.  We all must; light and dark cannot survive without each other - it’s woven into the very sky and time of our world… night and day, and dawn and dusk where they must meet and blend together – you taught me that.”

“You really don’t think any less of me?”  She whispered.

“No.”  His hand stroked her shoulder gently, his other hand rising slightly and then dropping again.  “And your childhood does explain why you keep taking in strays.”  He said with a teasing grin. 

“Out of everything that happened in that place, all the pain and torture I endured… that’s the one thing I can’t bear… that I became like them…”  She said softly, and his hand rose again, as if it would touch her cheek, but his fingers stopped, millimetres from her face.  She looked into his eyes and he lowered his hand.

“You’re not like them.”  He said simply, “I see you… I know you.”  His voice was deep, filled with emotion, “and I-” But he stopped, and there was a long pause, his eyes eventually lowering, “I am proud to call you Shield-sister.”  He said as he raised his eyes again.

“I have to go back for them.”

“And you have to take me with you.”  He agreed. 

“You were going to say something else…” She wanted to hear what he had been about to say when he stopped himself. 

“You’re right.”  He said, “As always.”  She could see that he didn’t want her to ask, to prod; he wanted her to leave it at that.

So she did. 

They’d been through enough today, and had bonded as true friends.  Some things don’t need to be said; their friendship was finally good and strong, and she was happy. 

She fell asleep without even talking to him about who was keeping watch, his arm tight around her shoulders, her head on his shoulder. 

 

 

 


	17. Part 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> here's how my health is going for those of you who are interested: http://blue--green.tumblr.com/post/166306361211/health-update
> 
> thank you all so much for your kind wishes for my health! it means a lot to me. and also thank you for your continued support for this story and your comments - they are very welcome. i hope you enjoy this installment and i look forward to reading your comments!!
> 
> thank you all so much xo

When Saadia awoke, she was warm and comfortable, even with the hard stone beneath her.  Vilkas’s arm was under her head as a pillow, his body spooning hers, the fire in front of her; they had both fallen asleep.  She looked around the cave, but they were safe, and she could see light streaming in from outside. 

She heard a soft sound from behind her; Vilkas growling in his sleep.  She imagined he was having interesting dreams after all the things that had happened yesterday, plus sleeping with the smell of her so close all night. 

Another soft growl and she turned to face him, his arm still under her head.  She gently moved his hair out of his face and he stirred.

“I guess neither of us were keeping watch.”  She said and he sighed.

“Sorry.”  He said, “I was intending to stay awake.” 

“It’s alright; neither of us were killed in our sleep.”  She said, “Sounded like you were having an interesting dream?”  She said and he nodded.

“What about you?”

“I very rarely remember my dreams.”  She answered.  “What were you dreaming about?”

“Being happy.”  He answered. 

“You have the heart of a romantic.”  She said.

“Heart of a warrior.”  He countered. 

“True.”  She said, “isn’t a bard a warrior poet?”  She teased and he started to chuckle, “A romantic warrior’s heart.” 

“What’s so romantic about being happy?”  He asked.

“It’s the way you say it; so wistfully.”  She answered, “And you can’t just say, ‘I was dreaming about slaying Dragons and bedding wenches’ – no you have to say you were dreaming about being happy!” 

“Ah well, that’s the life of a bard.”  He went along with the joke.  She laughed, still not getting the joke, but enjoying his humour nonetheless. 

“How romantic!”  Came a snide voice from behind her.  She rolled onto her back to look and saw a Silver-Hand standing in the entrance to the cave.

Before she’d had chance to respond in any way Vilkas had thrown his dagger at the Silver-Hand.

THUNK

It hit the man in the neck and he fell to the ground dead. 

She looked up at him, leaning over her, his eyes on the Silver-Hand, his hand dropping to be beside her head.

“Good reflexes.”  She said.

“I smelled him coming.”  He said with a grin.  He noticed their closeness, how it was almost a lover’s embrace, the blankets falling away, their nakedness so close.

“That’s cheating.”  She answered, but her grin said that she remembered how she had Whirlwind Sprinted ahead of them to win at the kill tally yesterday.

“You have your gifts, I have-” He stopped, looking down at her. 

“You have yours?”  She said and he sat up, looking away.  He’d almost admitted to his Beastblood being a gift.  She knew she was getting to him. 

“There’s more of them.”  He said, “We should get dressed and go.” 

“Time to kill.”  She said in a business-like voice, getting up, letting the blanket fall away, completely unconcerned. 

“I’ve already got one up on you today.”  He said as he joined her, gathering their clothes. 

“We both know how this competition will end.”  She said with a cocky grin.

“I’ll give you a run for your coin, woman.”  He answered, lacing his pants. 

“I bet you will.”  She agreed, “I’m still going beat you though.” 

They killed three unsuspecting Silver-Hand camped not far from the entrance to the cave, Saadia evening up the tally.

They had been trekking for an hour when Vilkas stopped, looking around.

“What is it?”

“Farkas…”  he said, “I just caught a whiff of him.”  He looked to the east, “That way.”  He said and they head off at a fast run. 

It was only a few minutes before Farkas came crashing through the undergrowth, scooping Saadia up into his arms.  Aela not far behind him, clapping Vilkas on the back, clearly happy to see them alive.

Farkas kissed Saadia deeply, his hands going to her face, looking at her closely.  It was only then she noticed that he was covered in blood.  Vilkas saw the look of love in his brother’s eyes, the smile on Saadia’s face.  He looked away, his chest feeling like lead.  Aela caught the drop in Vilkas’s mood and gave him an odd look. 

“You alright?”

“We still haven’t found the shard.”  He returned, repressing his emotion and putting his walls back up. 

“We will.”  Farkas said, “There’s so many of them up here; they’re hiding something.” 

“Or they’ve walked us all into a well-planned trap.”  Aela said, “The Silver-Hand set ambushes for us.”  She explained, “We’ve had a running battle with them from almost as soon as we split up.”  Saadia looked over to Aela, she looked exhausted.

“I was worried that they’d come for you too.”  Farkas said, pulling Saadia to him again, and then reaching over to hug his brother too.  Aela rolled her eyes, but still came over to smack Saadia on the back. 

“But you knew we’d kill them!”  Saadia said and he nodded.

“Doesn’t stop me from worrying.”  Farkas answered, “Especially when there’s so many of them.”

“There’s been hundreds of them; they must be breeding like rabbits up here.”  Aela said with disgust, “the minute we caught your scents we changed direction.”  She said, “I am glad to see you both Shield-siblings.”  She said. 

“They set traps for us too.”  Saadia said.

“So Saadia destroyed an underground cave and killed hundreds of Silver-Hand with the power of her Voice…”  Vilkas said, “I daresay we had an easier battle than you two.” 

Farkas let go of Vilkas but kept his arms around Saadia, his eyes on her face. 

“In the interests of being honest, I did nearly kill us too.”  Saadia added.

“We were entombed in stone.”  Vilkas said, “that was an interesting thing…”

“Vilkas saved our lives that time.”  She said. 

“Sounds like we’ll both have epic songs sung by the bards!”  Aela laughed happily, “But right now, we finally got them off our trail, so we were about to capture a Silver-Hand and make them tell us everything about these mountains – before we caught smell of you 2.” 

“You talking torture?”  Saadia asked.

“Yes I am.”  Aela answered.  “If that’s what it takes.”

“It won’t.”  Vilkas answered.  “But let’s get one of them and make them talk.”  He agreed to the plan. 

They took off through the forest, Aela leading; she was the best hunter.

“They’re all around us.”  Farkas told Saadia, and for the first time she saw him tapping into the wolf while he was in Human form, smelling and tasting the air.  All 3 of them had amber-gleaming eyes, and they moved like a pack, not needing to talk to communicate.  Saadia fell into a rhythm with them, but she knew she was missing much of what was being silently said, and that they were constantly adjusting their positions and plans to accommodate her lack of wolf-senses. 

They all stopped quite suddenly, Saadia a step behind.  She pursed her lips sourly; she didn’t like being the weakest one in the group.  But when it came to hunting in a pack, that’s absolutely what she was. 

She looked to where they were all looking; a small group of Silver-Hand, looking at a map.  Aela and Vilkas shared a look and Vilkas broke formation and entered the clearing behind them. 

He sliced the throat of 2 Silver-Hand with his dagger before the others knew he was there, throwing his dagger into the throat of the third, whipping his axe out and swinging it at the throat of the fourth.  Only to stop with the blade a centimetre away from his throat. 

The Silver-Hand stared at Vilkas, terrified, the axe at his throat, his 3 comrades dead, one of them still gurgling blood, the map they were looking at splashed with blood. 

Aela led Farkas and Saadia out of hiding.  Aela and Vilkas had silently decided that sending one fighter in was the best way to guarantee that they got a single survivor.  They had been right. 

Vilkas kept his eyes on the Silver-Hand while Aela looked at first Farkas and then Saadia. 

“I’ll do it.”  Saadia said softly.  She understood that silent conversation; how do they start this, who does the questioning? 

Aela nodded and Saadia stepped forward. 

“My friends tell me that this forest is swarming with Silver-Hand.”  She said, “So anything I do to you will have to be silent.”  The Silver-Hand narrowed his eyes.  He was an Imperial man, handsome, with green eyes.  “Do you know how we turn people into werewolves?”  She asked, and he stayed silent, his eyes going from her to the others, Vilkas’s axe still against his throat.  “Just like creating any life, it takes two…”  She said and leaned on Vilkas, giving the Silver-Hand a suggestive grin.  Vilkas let the corner of his mouth turn up, his face staying stony, focussed.  “So I would… feed you my blood.”  She whispered her lies to the Silver-Hand, putting her face close to his.  “And then he feeds you his blood.”  She said, “And our blood mingles within you, birthing our child… you.  A werewolf in our image.”  She whispered sinuously, almost sexually.  Vilkas cocked an eyebrow, making it look like he was looking forward to it.  Aela gave Farkas a look but he was grinning at Saadia’s creativity.  “If you get the blood of just one wolf… you’ll be sick for a while, but you’ll remain disappointingly Human.”  She said. 

“But if she bleeds, I bleed.”  Vilkas said, making it clear that he was keen to turn him. 

“Do you know how we make a feral?”  She asked the Silver-Hand.  “They’re not just accidents.  I know you can torture us into being feral… but we can also make ferals.”  She lied, “We do it when someone pisses us off, and we want to punish them… It’s so easy to do – you just make the Human drink the blood of 3 of us.”  She turned to look at Aela and Farkas, “There’s 4 of us here.”

“I wonder what happens if they drink the blood of 4 of us.”  Vilkas went along with her lie. 

“I’ve always wondered that.”  Saadia said as she retrieved Vilkas’s dagger from the neck of a Silver-Hand, wiping it clean on the dead woman’s clothes. 

She put the dagger to her forearm and Vilkas grinned sadistically, he grabbed the throat of the Silver-Hand and put his axe back on his back as Saadia sliced along her forearm.

“NO!”  The Silver-Hand screamed, but Vilkas punched him in the face, dazing him. 

“Tell me what I want to know.”  She said, “Or we’ll see what the blood of 4 of us do.”  She said.  “And then I’ll probably start breaking your fingers for fun.”

“I like the way bones sound when they snap.”  Vilkas said coldly. 

“You know it turns me on.”  Saadia said, “I always like to fuck after I’ve tortured someone to death.”  Her eyes on the Silver-Hand, convincing him of their depravity. 

“That’s what I love about you.”  Vilkas said squeezing the throat of the Silver-Hand as Saadia raised her bleeding arm to the man’s mouth.

“They’ve only got 2 shards left so this was supposed to get you all out and kill you all.”  He said hurriedly, “Please don’t turn me!” 

“Where are the shards?”  Aela said viciously. 

“There’s one in some ruins just north of here… and I don’t know where the other one is.”  He said and she saw no lie in his eyes, “But you’ll never get them – there’s a thousand Silver-Hand in these woods.”  He boasted.

Saadia grabbed him by the hair and Vilkas let his throat go, seeing she wanted control of him.  She looked into the Silver-Hand’s eyes, her other hand going to his throat. 

“We’ve killed at least half of them already.”  She said, “Just the 4 of us… do you really think you can stop us?” 

“Hosgan guards the shard… he can Shout like the old Nordic heroes.”  He said, obviously terrified of her.  Saadia smiled sweetly.

“Can he now?”  She asked.  “So can I.”  She whispered to him before snapping his neck.  She turned to look north, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath while Vilkas, Farkas and Aela looked at the dead man, falling to the floor. 

Vilkas came and stood beside her, Farkas came to stand at her other side, Aela joining him, a huge grin on her face. 

“Lucky we’ve got the Dragonborn.”  Aela said, “I don’t know how to fight Dragon Shouts… but we all know who does.” 

“Let’s go get that shard.”  Vilkas said.

“I’ll lead.”  Aela said, speaking for the sake of Saadia; the brothers already knew the drill. 

“That’s 5-4.”  Vilkas kept the tally.  And they began to run, following Aela. 

“The battle is young.”  She said with a smile, “Thanks for backing me in that bluff.”  She said.

“You forget; I saw you make a couple of hundred Silver-Hand all take a step back.  I know how powerful your bluff is.”  He said honestly, “I’m glad you didn’t give him any of your blood…”

“Well I was planning to, so he was really scared… but he gave up the information too quickly!”  She laughed, but his face was serious.  “Worried he’d become Dragonborn?”  She teased.

“No…”  He said slowly.

“So yes.”  She laughed. 

“Probably not.”  He said rolling his eyes.  “But still…”

“My blood is sacred, right?”  She laughed.  He sighed and they ran on in silence, readying themselves for a fight. 

 

***

 

Kodlak looked at the shard of Wuuthrad as Aela presented it to him. 

“There’s only 2 pieces missing now!”  Skjor said in way of a congratulations.

“I have one of the shards in my room.”  Kodlak said, “’Tis only one piece still missing.”

“And the Silver-Hand have it.”  Aela said, “we just don’t know where.”

“But we’ll find it.”  Saadia said fiercely.  

“I’m sure you will.”  Kodlak answered, “You work well together.”  He said looking at the 4 of them. 

“Tonight is not for talk of future battles.”  Skjor said, “Tonight is for celebration, and for talk of glorious victory!”

The doors to Jorrvaskr were thrown open, the call going out that a glorious battle had been won, and a celebration was in order; Whiterun was invited to drink with them. 

The shard had been easy to obtain in the end.  Hosgan knew just one word of Unrelenting Force, and not very well; he was still learning it, and lacked the discipline of mind or spirit required to truly master it.  As for the rest of the Silver-Hand army that was supposed to be in the forest; they never saw them.  there was about 100 Silver-Hand with Hosgan, but that was it, other than a few small camps of Silver-Hand, supposedly guarding the path to the ruins. 

They were all dead now.

And a celebration was very welcome.

Meat was roasted over the firepit, bards began writing songs of their victory, wenches showed up, and the townsfolk came – they always came.

Saadia sat next to Farkas at the head table, everyone singing and laughing, and looked down the table to the empty seat next to Aela.  There was supposed to be 7 of them.  She wanted to see the Companions returned to their full strength.  In the beginning there were 500 Companions…

She was jolted from her silent thoughts by Farkas putting his hand on her thigh, squeezing it and grinning at her. 

“Stay here tonight?”  He asked, particularly lustfully.  Saadia knew he was smelling her fertility. 

“Of course.”  She said, moving in closer to whisper saucily, “Lucia isn’t expecting me home until tomorrow night.  I am expecting to spend a decent amount of that time in your room, doing very dirty things to you...”

“Oh, you’re after my heart Saadia.”  He said with a dirty grin. 

“I’m after your body.”  She corrected, her hand going up his thigh and rubbing his cock through his pants under the table. 

“And it’s yours.”  He said lustfully. 

But a pretty woman came and dropped herself in Farkas’s lap, Saadia moving her hand just in time.

“Hi…”  She said breathily.  Farkas gave her a grin.

“Hi.”  He said, halfway between interested and not.

Vilkas leaned back in his chair and Saadia saw him, she leaned back and he cocked an eyebrow at her.  She started to laugh. 

People started to get up and sing rowdily, moving around the hall, dancing, eating as they drank and sung.  Vilkas was still having his silent conversation with Saadia when a woman plonked down in his lap.

“You’re one of the heroes aren’t you?”  She said lustfully, “They say the Silver-Hand threatened to kill everyone in Whiterun.”  She said, “And you saved us from them.”  He turned his eyes back to Saadia and she cocked an eyebrow at him this time. 

She got up, leaving the brothers to their revelries, thinking more about the Companions and how to make them great again.  She poured herself a drink, just water, and watched everyone celebrating; the songs of the battle greatly over stated their accomplishments, and completely skipped the part where her and Vilkas had been trapped in a tiny hole together.  They’d left it out when the bards had been asking for the story so they could sing it.  Neither of them had said they’d leave it out; they just had both done it.  Saadia knew to leave anything out that might bring reference to them being werewolves, and the strength required to get out of that hole hadn’t been Human.  Besides, that whole thing had been so intimate.  It was just for the two of them; it had created the foundation of their friendship.  And she didn’t want to share it with anyone else.  The bards got the battle stories, but not the connection she’d made with Vilkas. 

She stared over at the brothers, both of them talking to the women on their laps, but both of them looking less than enthusiastic.  She laughed to herself, enjoying the way they handled themselves in this situation; the differences, the similarities. 

“This is unexpected.”  She heard Kodlak’s voice and turned to him.

“How so?”

“Well aren’t you supposed to be over there, celebrating with those two?”  He asked. 

“They’re both busy.”  She said with a happy grin.

“They’d be not busy if you asked them to be.”  Kodlak said softly. 

“I suppose.”  She answered with a shrug, “But why not let them have their fun.”

“Oh because they’d both rather be spending their time with you.”  Kodlak answered. 

“You noticed that Vilkas and I are finally friends eh?”  She asked with a happy grin.  Kodlak said nothing and looked back at the brothers. 

“We all share a special bond in the Circle.”  He said diplomatically after a moment of silence. 

“I think Skjor is the one I’m least close to now.”  She said, turning her eyes to him.

“You’ve already won him over.”  Kodlak said, “But it takes him a long time to be close friends with anyone… and they must be… like him… for him to truly trust them.”  She nodded that she understood; Skjor only trusted other werewolves. 

“Well then I have a lot of work to do.”  She noted.  “Do you think we’ll get a seventh?”  She asked and Kodlak sighed heavily.

“I don’t know Dragonborn.”  He said sadly.  “It was hard to admit a sixth after the loss of Nurie and Brandlar.” 

“I understand.”  She said, “You all are very close.”  She felt an envy, remembering how the brothers and Aela could seem to speak without words when they hunted.  She wasn’t a part of that. 

“We’re family.”  He agreed. 

“What made you decided to let me in, in the end?”  She asked, “I know it was a vote; but what made you, Harbinger, vote yes?”

“I have passed on a lot of wisdom to the whelps, to the Circle… It’s my job as Harbinger.”  He smiled, his eyes turning to Vilkas.  “But it is important to know when to listen to others.”  She followed his eyes to Vilkas, “Vilkas spoke very passionately about how you belonged here.” 

“I always thought he wanted me here the least.”

“No.”  Kodlak answered, “He always wanted you here the most.  But he understood how your relationship with Farkas could cloud things.  He worried about so many things; it’s his nature.  It’s also his nature to not show what he truly thinks or feels.” 

“I’m getting to understand just how true that is.”  She answered. 

“It’s how he hides his weaknesses.”  Kodlak said, “He’s quite adept at it.  That’s something worth remembering.” 

“I will.”  She said, “So Vilkas convinced you?”  She asked.

“No, I’d already decided from the moment I saw you.”  He said with a cheeky grin, “I saw in your eyes that you had the spirit, the heart.  You belong here Saadia, and you always will.”

“Thank you, Kodlak.”  She was touched by his words. 

“I tell you what Vilkas did because you should know that there was never anyone here that didn’t want you here.” 

“That’s good to know.” 

“And Vilkas sometimes deserves a hit up the back of the head for… well for many reasons.”  He said with a grin, “Don’t be afraid to give him them when he deserves them.”

“I won’t, don’t you worry.”  She laughed. 

“And now a special song for the Dragonborn, Thane of Whiterun!”  A bard said loudly.   

Saadia had never heard the songs about her all the way through, only a few lines of it here and there at various inns. 

Kodlak raised his glass and cheered along with everyone else and she turned to look at him.  He raised his drink to her, as was everyone, honouring her.  She looked over to the head table to see both brothers on their feet raising their tankards to her, their lovely ladies forgotten. 

Kodlak downed his drink, and everyone followed suit.  Saadia stared at everyone there, so convinced she was some kind of heroine.  She looked back over at the brothers, both of them getting a refill as they sat back down.  But Vilkas looked back over to her, tipped his tankard to her again and downed his drink again as the bard bowed low to Saadia and then began to sing. 

She turned to look at the bard, Kodlak standing beside her, and listened to the chorus; the story of the Dragonborn’s return – the story that prophesised her existence. 

Everyone sang along; as was customary.  They would sing the choruses and listen to the verses of the song. 

She continued to look around at everyone, enraptured by the song, in being in her presence, and she looked back at the brothers.  Farkas singing along, Vilkas giving her a sympathetic look; like he was reading her mind. 

Vilkas could see how uncomfortable she was, even though she hid it well.  She didn’t feel like the heroine they all believed her to be.  She continued looking over at him as the bard finished the last line of the chorus. 

“You’ll know, you’ll know the Dragonborn’s come…”  He sung loudly, beautifully. 

“I always know when the Dragonborn’s cum!”  Farkas said bawdily to Vilkas.  Vilkas turned his eyes to his brother.

“We need to have a very serious talk.”  Vilkas said shortly. 

“What’s wrong?”  Farkas asked, all seriousness. 

“You told her about the mating growl!”  Vilkas hissed, but kept his face stony, expressionless. 

Saadia watched them from across the room; Vilkas was saying something serious to Farkas, she could see the look on his face.  And Farkas looked quite put in his place by the end of it.  She watched both brothers brood for a moment as the bard continued his song.  But then Farkas obviously apologised, and Vilkas obviously forgave him; she saw the interaction between them and admired their love for each other.  Now she could see that Vilkas was asking something, and he didn’t like Farkas’s answer, he rolled his eyes skyward and took a deep breath. 

“She’s known since I turned.”  Farkas answered and saw that his brother was unimpressed with that answer.  “I didn’t think it mattered that much; she understands…”

“I know she understands.”  Vilkas answered testily.  “Don’t worry; it’s done now.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“You’ve already apologised.  Don’t worry.  It’s fine.”  Vilkas answered more genuinely. 

“Alright.”  Farkas said and stood up, “I’m just going-” He pointed towards the back door where the outhouse was.  Vilkas nodded.

Saadia excused herself, Kodlak nodding, his attention on the bard, and she went back to the head table, sitting next to Vilkas, leaving her seat on the end of the table empty, sitting in Farkas’s chair instead.   

“Looked serious.”  She said and Vilkas sighed.

“No.”  He said softly before taking a sip of mulled wine. 

“You’re a terrible liar.”

“I’m actually a great liar; you’re just far too good at reading me.”  He answered.  “It’s disconcerting.”

“It’s brilliant.”  She countered with a cheeky grin. 

“And now, a very special treat!”  The bard said, “For we have a bard from Solitude, who is an expert in the Dragon Tongue, and has travelled here to Whiterun to present her song to the Dragonborn!”  There was a loud applause.  “I will translate each verse.”  He said as the young woman bowed low to Saadia.  Everyone again raised their cups to Saadia, Vilkas included.  Saadia smiled warmly, but inside her heart dropped.  The bard waited for everyone to down their drinks before beginning her dramatic song.

“Dovahkiin, Dovahkiin, naal ek zin los vahriin, wah dein vokul mahfaeraak ahst vaal!  Ahrk fin norok paal graan fod nust hon zindro zaan.  Dovahkiin, fah hin kogaan mu draal!”  She sang in the Dragon Tongue with a force and passion that actually made Saadia’s pulse speed up. 

“Dragonborn, Dragonborn, by her honour is sworn, to keep evil forever at bay!  And the fiercest foes rout when they hear triumph's Shout.  Dragonborn, for your blessing we pray!”  The male bard translated in a deep beautiful singing voice.  Saadia tried not to sigh, but she felt dismay that the lyrics worshipped her so.  And then she felt Vilkas’s hand on hers under the table.  He squeezed her fingers tightly in support.  And she found herself able to hold her head high as the song continued. 

“Huzrah nu, fron do od, wah aan bok lingrah vod Ahrk fin tey, boziik fun, do fin gein!  Wo lost fron wah ney dov  
ahrk fin reyliik do jul voth aan suleyk wah ronit faal krein.”  Her voice was powerful, beautiful and passionate,

“Hearken now, kin of snow, to an age, long ago and the tale, boldly told, of the one!  Who was kin to both wyrm

and the races of man with a power to rival the sun.”  His voice matched the lady bard’s voice perfectly; it was a gorgeous song.

“Oh wow…”  Saadia breathed under her breath, feeling absolute dismay, and she felt Vilkas’s hand again tighten around hers as they both watched the bards.

“Ahrk fin kel lost prodah, Do ved viing ko fin krah, Tol fod zeymah win kein meyz fundein!  Alduin, feyn do jun,  
kruziik vokun staadnau, voth aan bahlok wah diivon fin lein!”  The tone changed, and upon hearing Alduin’s name, Saadia knew what the verse was about without needing the translation. 

“And the Scrolls have foretold of black wings in the cold, that when brothers wage war come unfurled!  Alduin, Bane of Kings, ancient shadow unbound, with a hunger to swallow the world!”  Saadia found this easier to listen to; she nodded grimly, thinking that she still had no idea how to kill Alduin, how to even find him. 

“Nuz aan sul, fent alok, fod fin vul dovah nok, fen kos nahlot mahfaeraak ahrk ruz! Paaz Keizaal fen kos stin nol bein Alduin jot!”  Saadia looked around the audience and saw them absolutely spellbound by the dual bards.  “Dovahkiin kos fin saviik do muz!”

“But a day, shall arise, when the dark Dragon's lies, will be silenced forever and then!  Fair Skyrim will be free from foul Alduin's maw!”  The translation was sung with the same passion and Saadia swallowed as she saw people’s eyes turning to her; completely believing in her and her ability to save Skyrim.  “Dragonborn be the saviour of men!”

“Dovahkiin, Dovahkiin, naal ek zin los vahriin wah dein vokul mahfaeraak ahst vaal!  Ahrk fin norok paal graan fod nust hon zindro zaan.  Dovahkiin, fah hin kogaan mu draal!”  The song returned to its dramatic beginning.  Vilkas squeezed her hand again.

“Dragonborn, Dragonborn, by her honour is sworn to keep evil forever at bay!  And the fiercest foes rout when they hear triumph's Shout, Dragonborn, for your blessing we pray!” 

The song was over, and the audience was cheering loudly.  Calling to her to bless them. 

“Clap.”  Vilkas said under his breath as he let go of her hand and started to clap, Saadia copying him, a huge smile plastered on her face.  “In a moment you’re going to stand up, tip your drink to the bards and down it all.”

“It’s only water.”  She said, trying not to move her lips as she spoke.

“Just do it.”  He answered, “Then once they’ve bowed, smash the cup.”

Saadia stood up, everyone cheering, and tipped her drink to the bards.  She smiled, convincing everyone that she hadn’t been horrified by how they all worshipped her.  Then she downed the drink and the bards bowed deeply, thanking her for the honour she did them by drinking to them.  As soon as they had finished bowing she smashed her cup and everyone cheered loudly and smashed their cups too. 

“DRAGONBORN!”  Some of them cheered and they raised their drinks to her again.  She sat down as the bards started a new song.

“By the Gods…”  She whispered. 

“The people of Whiterun love you.”  He said softly.

“I’d settle for the people of Falkreath’s indifference.”  She answered. 

“Then they mustn’t know who you are.”  He answered.

“None of these people know who I am either.”  She said, scanning the room slowly. 

“They know you are Dovahkiin.”

“And that’s all that matters.”  She said a little bitterly. 

“We each have our masks we wear.”  He answered philosophically.  She rolled her eyes at him, feeling more like herself again.  “I wear the mask of hero too.”  He said and she shook her head.

“No, you are a hero.”  She countered. 

“We fight the same battles, yet you think me a hero, and you not.”  He noted.

“Because of your heart.”  She said, “If I wasn’t Dragonborn, I’d probably be lying low; hiding from my father.  Hardly heroic.” 

He laughed softly.

“I doubt it.”  He said.

“Ugh.”  She decided not to argue with him.  But only because he was probably right and she didn’t want him to know it.  He looked around the room and then back to her.

“Shield-sister, I…”  He paused, thinking through what he was going to say.  “I didn’t apologise to you for what happened when I was the wolf.”  He said in a low voice.

“You don’t need to apologise.”

“Yes I do.”  He said with deep emotion, she looked him in the eye as he explained, “I put my hands on you… I…” He looked ashamed.

“You can put your hands on my any time you want.”  She said.

“It’s no joke.”  He said, “I take consent very seriously.  I-”

“And you stopped as soon as I told you to.”  She said firmly, “No joke involved.  You have nothing to apologise for.” 

Vilkas opened his mouth to respond but Farkas sat down on the other side of Saadia.

“Looks like I missed out on something!”  He said noting all the smashed cups. 

“Good bards.”  Saadia answered. 

“AH!”  He answered and then looked at the seat he was in.  “It’s good being on the end seat again!”  He said with a huge grin.  “Let’s keep this seating arrangement.” 

“No we’re always together.”  Vilkas said, “Nothing comes between us brother.” 

“It’s just some seats Vilkas.”  Farkas answered, “It’s alright.” 

The audience cheered loudly at the bard’s song and they all downed their drinks. 

“Anyway, threesome?”  Farkas asked Saadia. 

“That pretty girl?”  She asked him, Vilkas looking away. 

“Unless you want me all to yourself; I’m up for either.”  He said easily. 

“But I kind of like her.”  Saadia said pointing to another girl.  Vilkas cleared his throat and looked over at the girl who had sat on his lap earlier. 

“Oh I’m good for a foursome.”  Farkas answered Saadia, “If that’s what you’re thinking?” 

“I think that is what I’m thinking now.”  She said with a lusty grin. 

 

***

 

“So what can you tell me about Jarl Balgruuf’s family?”  Saadia asked Lydia as they watched Lucia swimming in the lake with Meeko and Svali.  Tarryn was sat as Saadia’s feet, staring at the water with confusion. 

“What did Lucia say, my Thane?”

“That the kids are spoiled but Nelkir’s the worst; he scares her.” 

Lydia nodded thoughtfully.

“The Jarl has a brother named Hrongar; not too bright.  Fiercely loyal though, he’s also the Thane of Whiterun, but he never leaves the castle so no one knows about him.”  Lydia said, “He agitates for war with the Stormcloaks.  He’s an Empire supporter through and through.  A tough Nord warrior.”  She said and then turned to Saadia, “And even he has admitted that Nelkir is… scary.” 

“That’s not encouraging.”  Saadia said; they still hadn’t chosen a tutor for Lucia, and at the moment she was only attending lessons a few days a week because she was dividing her time between Whiterun and Lakeview Manor. 

“Frothar is his oldest son.  He’s… Alright.  Spoiled, but as he grows he’s starting to gain some of his father’s wisdom.  And he has a kind heart.  I think he will eventually be a good leader.”  Lydia said thoughtfully, “Although he has too much of his uncle in him; he loves to fight.  And a good leader must know when not to fight, as well as when to fight.”

“Hopefully age will temper him.”

“Yes, he is still young.”  Lydia agreed.  “Dagny is the middle child… she is… very selfish and spoiled.  I have never heard her say a nice word to anyone; she thinks only of herself.  But Balgruuf feels that she needs a strong woman to guide her and leaves her to her own devices.”

“Poor decision.”  Saadia noted and Lydia nodded.

“I think he always expected to get married again much sooner; to have a woman by his side to guide him and his children.”  Lydia said, “it’s been hard to see him be alone.” 

“His wife died?”

“In childbirth; both she and the child died.”  Lydia said, “It broke his heart.” 

“I can only imagine.”  Saadia said softly, her eyes on Lucia. 

“Nelkir is… He is a bastard child.  Born of an unknown woman, only a few days younger than Dagny.”

“I thought he seemed the kind to be more careful than that…”  Saadia said, “He seems also to be a little bit more traditional than that.”  She added.

“Some said that a witch must have seduced him, or enchanted him, or given him a love potion… because no one can believe that he would be unfaithful to his wife; they made a point of making monogamy a part of their vows.”  Saadia furrowed her brows, “Nelkir…” Lydia sighed, “He’s very odd… One of my friends said they saw him speaking to himself in the cellars.  And another said she believes Nelkir wants to kill his father.” 

“That’s concerning.”  Saadia answered, pulling a face. 

“I’m not surprised that Lucia doesn’t like them.  She’s a good kid.  Not spoiled.”  Lydia answered.

“Come on, you little ones!”  Gunjar cried, “It’s time to muck out the stables!”

“COMING GUNJAR!”  Lucia called back, both of the girls running out of the water, laughing together, grabbing their towels as they went.  Meeko ran after them, barking happily, jumping up and trying to lick their faces.

Saadia left Lydia to watch the girls clean out the stables and went inside and sat down at the table thinking about what to do about the Jarls’ children and Lucia’s tutoring.

Eventually she sighed and tried to put it aside, thinking about something else that had been on her mind since they’d been up in the mountains hunting Silver-Hand.

“Jee-Tah, do we have any paper and ink, quills?”

“Yes, my honoured Saadia!”  Jee-Tah answered and ran off to get them.

“No need to rush!”  She called after him.  But he returned just as fast as he had left, bringing her a large roll of paper, several beautifully crafted quills and an inkwell. 

She dipped a quill in the ink and looked at the paper, thinking.

She drew a rough circle and tried to picture what she wanted.  She slowly drew a shaggy wolf, nose to tail, in the place of the circle, it’s claws at rest, it’s eyes partly closed.  It looked peaceful, asleep. 

It was very rough; she’d never drawn before.  But it was a start. 

 

***

 

Saadia had wanted to see Balgruuf and his children, but he was in a meeting with some generals from either the Stormcloaks or the Legion, no one seemed to know, and his children were being tutored.  Even Proventus was too busy to talk; planning the upcoming Fertility Festival. 

So she decided to drop in on Farengar, and see how the old wizard was going. 

He was pouring over his books, reading up about Dragons, the Thalmor and legends of the Dragonborn. 

“Ah hello!”  He said when he saw her, “I do have a few bags that need taking to-”  
“Oh, no.”  Saadia stopped him. “I was just coming to…”  She could see by the look on his face that just dropping in for a visit would not be appreciated and immediately regretted her decision.  He would lecture her about what a busy man he was… “To… give you these!”  She said, thinking quickly, she pulled a few Dragon bones and scales she’d harvested from Dragons she’d killed.

His face immediately lit up. 

“Wonderful!”  He said taking them from her and looking at them closely, “Oh I’d love to see a Dragon up close.”  He said wistfully.  “What are they like?”  He asked.

“Devastating.”  Saadia answered, bewildered by his love of Dragons, “Terrifying…” 

“Oh of course!”  He said, “You know I heard the bard’s song for you the other night.”  He said, “Some of the translations were not accurate.”  He said, “But it was close enough.”

“You speak the Dragon Tongue?”

“I’ve had to teach myself.”  He said and looked down at his books.  “Our mutual friend, Delphine, has me working night and day on all things Dragon, and on her plans to…”  He looked around as if the walls might have ears, “Penetrate the,” His voice dropped so low she could barely hear him, “Thalmor embassy.” 

“She should make you an honorary Blade.”  Saadia said and he looked like he might like that, but then shook his head.

“I want to know Dragons, not kill them.”  He answered.

“I’m not sure you can… know Dragoons.”  Saadia said slowly.

“I hope to one day have a chance to speak with a Dragon.”  He said, “Perhaps I can create some sort of peace treaty…”  he said with a wistful smile.  Saadia stared at him with wide eyes.

“Okay.”  She said, “Anyway, I was thinking you’d like those, and now I am going to leave you to it.”  She turned to go.

“Wait.”  Farengar said, “Delphine wanted me to teach you Fast Travel.” 

“What’s that?”

“Only certain people can use it; you have to have enough natural Magicka.  We’re hoping that you have enough.”  He grabbed her hand and looked at her palm.  “Barely enough.”  He muttered.  “You’ll have to build that if you want to use this effectively.”

“Alright, but what is it?” 

“Oh it’s a little spell that allows you to travel to places you’ve already been.”

“I can do that now… it’s called walking.”  Saadia answered, “Tell me more.” 

“It allows you to travel there instantaneously.”  He elaborated.

“Useful…”  Saadia said.

“Yes.  But you can only go to places you’ve been to before because you need to be able to picture the place you want to end up in your mind.  And unless you’re a master, you’re best to do it outside.  If you try to get yourself inside places you might end up split by a wall.”  He added.  “And given your tiny amount of Magicka, you’ll probably only be able to do it over small distances and maybe once a day at most.”  He said.

“Small distances?”

“Like between Falkreath and Whiterun.”  He clarified, “But not Whiterun and Markarth.” 

“Very useful still.”  Saadia mused.

“And once you’re better at it and have more Magicka, you might be able to bring someone with you.”  He added. 

“So it’ll be a skill I can use sometimes but not all the time.”  She said, thinking about coming home after having battled her way through ruins.  Instead of having to run home, she’d be able to Fast Travel home.  “Very useful.”  She repeated.  “I’d really appreciate it.”

“Well consider it payment for the Dragon bones and scales!”  He said happily. 

Saadia decided not to point out that he was meant to teach her this spell anyway…

 

***

 

Whiterun was a city of hundreds of thousands of people; and at no time was that more obvious than when the harvest festivals were on. 

But the Fertility Festival was especially busy; a week-long festival of feasting, performances, bonfires… and Gropekunte Lane was particularly busy during this time.  The evening feasts was provided by the Jarl; from the fish from his lakes.  He provided this one meal every day of the festival for every citizen of his Hold – millions of people.  It was an expensive endeavour, but one that made a lot of money for the city of Whiterun, and engendered a lot of love and loyalty for Jarl Balgruuf.  Saadia began to realise just how much his people loved him; they’d follow him into Oblivion if he led them. 

There were bards, skalds, jugglers, fire-eaters, and acrobatics every night, makeshift tables set up serving the delicious fish feasts while the people were entertained. 

But the point of the festival was religious and harvest based; people were giving thanks to the Gods for the harvest and praying for the fertility of the land to continue. 

There were so many rituals surrounding this.

On the first day of the festival, all women in their menses went to the fields to give their blood to the land.  People who were not menstruating at the time of the festival came out to watch them walk to the fields, thanking them for their gift to the land.  There was a ritual of thanks-giving and worshipping of the sacred feminine before they entered the growing fields.  And once in the fields, they were left to the private ritual that only women in menses could be part of; everyone else left to return to the city. 

Men who experienced menses had their own ritual on the last day of the festival that followed the same format.  And many men went out to thank menstruating men for their contribution to the fertility of the land, even though there were always far less menstruating men than women. 

All those that enjoyed sex were encouraged to partake every day of the festival, especially outside in the fields, under the full moons or the midday sun.  It was fair to say that many parents ended up having to answer many awkward questions during the festival; even though people tried to keep children’s eyes away from some of the more adult content of the festival – it was inevitable that some mishaps happened. 

Offerings of food were made to the earth, symbols of negative things were burned in the bonfires to help people let go of them or to banish negative things, and prayers were made for the future.

People came to Whiterun from all over the Hold to partake in the festival, and often people gave gifts to the Jarl in appreciation, even though it wasn’t formally part of the festival. 

Saadia had gone with Aela and Camilla, and taken Lucia to the menses ritual in the early morning, celebrating the power of the female body and its gifts.  There was something so pure about so many women together celebrating a part of womanhood that was usually hidden or reviled in Saadia’s experience.  Camilla was welcome, even though she was a woman that would never experience menses; all women were welcome. 

Lucia had been filled with questions after the ritual and the three women had worked together to help the little girl understand her body, and the changes it would go through as she grew; to welcome them and to accept them as a natural part of life.  Camilla spoke of her different experiences as a woman, and then told Lucia, that she may experience many things as a woman, or perhaps not a woman, as a man, or many other genders.  Lucia had become very thoughtful after that and curiously asked the 3 women questions for hours. 

Saadia was amazed by how open the Nords were with sex, how accepting of people of different genders and sexualities.  Her childhood had been so sheltered, and she had been raised to be ashamed of her own desires and bodily functions, to abhor sex in all its forms… This was pleasantly different.  And she was glad she could raise Lucia so openly; the way that Saadia had been raised had not stopped her sexuality, appetites or curiosity, it had only made it more dangerous for her.  Lucia was in less danger because she understood things better. 

Most of the bawdy songs Saadia had heard in the past, had been about sex between men and women, but during the festival, there were far more bards around and she heard many other bawdy songs about all sorts of different types of sex, between all sorts of consenting adults.  She’d loved every minute of it. 

But it wasn’t just bawdy songs being sung, all manner of songs were being tried out on the huge crowds, and Saadia found herself listening to dozens of different bards every day. 

She hadn’t seen Vilkas or Skjor for most of the festival; they had gone feral hunting, but she spent a lot of time with Lydia, Lucia, Farkas and Aela, wandering around the city, watching performers, eating food, both free from the Jarl and from little stalls that had been set up selling delicious snacks. 

Aela had tired of the crowds mid-week and taken off to commune with nature, which really meant hunt in werewolf form, and Lydia had taken Lucia to an acrobatics workshop – the performers were teaching children how to do some of the tricks they did. 

This left Farkas and Saadia to wonder around together.

“People will think there’s truth to the betrothal rumours.”  Saadia joked when Farkas put his arm around her waist as they walked through the crowds around the market stalls.  There was all manner of crafts on sale, and Saadia wanted to pick a few things up for Lucia.

“Let them, I don’t care.”  He shrugged.

“Ah but what if people expect you to stop bedding everyone because you’re with me?”  She teased and he cocked an eyebrow.

“They can try and tell a Nord warrior that he can’t bed whoever he wants, who’s willing of course, but they won’t have much luck.”  He answered.

“Isn’t monogamy a traditional marriage vow?”  She continued, wrapping her arm around his waist.

“Not anymore - it’s not an open vow… I think Vilkas said it’s not an explicit vow?”  He answered, “But it is somewhat implied.”  He conceded, “Some marriages make it an explicit vow, and others go the other way.”  He said with a shrug, “I imagine we’d go the other way.”  He added.

“You say that like it’s something that’s actually going to happen.”  She said with an amused smile and he shrugged again.

“There’s worse things that could happen.”  He answered, “It probably won’t.  But I don’t care if people think it will.”

“Because there’s worse things that could happen.”  She shook her head, thoroughly amused. 

“I don’t suppose our lives would change much if we were married,” He said, “Except I suppose I’d move into one of your homes.  That’d be strange.”  He said, mulling that over. 

“Yes, how would you cope not living with Vilkas?”  She teased. 

“Maybe he can come too?”  Farkas said, “That’d work out better.”

“So I’d have both of you moving in to my home?”  She laughed.

“Well you take one Wolf brother, you take both of us.”  He laughed in return. 

“That’s quite a loss for Jorrvaskr.”  She noted and looked around the crowd to the performers.

“Not really; they need the space.  And Vilkas and me will still return to teach the whelps and do jobs and we’d still be members of the Circle.”  He said and paused, turning his face to her, all humour gone from his face.  Saadia was looking at some sword swallowers, her mouth open in surprise.  “You’re so beautiful.”  He said softly and she turned back to him. 

“What made you say that?”  She laughed awkwardly; she still wasn’t used to being considered beautiful. 

“Just everything about you.”  He answered.  She chuckled again, shaking her head.  But he stroked her cheek gently, pulling her closer, they kissed, the crowds milling around them, people happily taking note; the Dragonborn had chosen her mate it seemed.  And the people of Whiterun approved of her choice. 

It was a soft, tender kiss, his fingers lingering on her cheek. 

“I’ve never been kissed like that before.”  She said when their lips parted, their foreheads coming together.

“I’ve never kissed like that before either.”  He said softly, his fingers moving up her cheek to her hair, flowing free while in town.  She felt her pulse speed up a little at his words and his hand went to her chest, over her heart.

“Damnit.”  She said and laughed softly; he had sensed her heartbeat fluttering.  He smiled, completely in the moment of her laughter, her eyes lit up with mirth, his hand went to her chin to raise her mouth to his again. 

He realised as he kissed her that it was the first time he’d kissed in this unsexual manner; there was more love than sex in his lips as they gently pressed to hers.  Their tongues delicately touched, rather than the fierce dancing together they did when he was kissing her lustfully. 

She laughed breathlessly and looked down when he stopped kissing her lips; the intensity of the kiss was beyond anything she’d experienced.  She felt all sorts of things swirling around inside of her, her fingers finding their way along his waist, to lace her arms around him.  He stroked her face delicately with both hands, looking in her eyes as she looked up at him again.  He wasn’t that much taller than her, nor was she was she a small or fragile woman… but right now she felt completely safe in his arms – a safety she hadn’t realised she’d been missing.  He would never let anything happen to her.  And although Saadia knew she needed no such protection; it was still somehow comforting. 

“This is something different, isn’t it?”  He asked and she nodded, not sure what else to do or say.  It certainly felt different to what she was used to.  They both started to laugh and he put his arm around her waist again as they started to walk through the crowd, both of them smiling.  Farkas saw several bards setting up on a small stage and he pointed it out to Saadia.  They went over to the stage and stood, waiting for the song to come; Farkas knew how Saadia loved bards. 

One of the bards had a lute, another was on a drum, another on the flute, and another had a fiddle - an instrument Saadia had never seen before.  Two of the bards stood separate from the others; a woman and a man.

The lute player began to play as the crowd filled up around the stage, and then the female singer began to sing, in a beautiful, powerful voice.

“Who is at my window weeping, weeping there so bitterly?” 

“It’s I, it’s I, your own true lover, arise, arise and pity me.”  The man replied in a deep, longing voice, filled with passion and emotion. 

“Beautiful.”  Saadia murmured her eyes on the stage, but Farkas could only stare at her. 

The drummer started to play as well now, the song building.

“Oh darling, go and ask your mother, if my wedding bride you’ll be.”  The man sung with so much longing Saadia’s breath caught in her throat.  “If she says no, return and tell me, and I’ll no longer trouble thee.”  He ended on such a note of sadness that Saadia put her hand over her heart.  And Farkas was completely engrossed in every little movement she made, the fluttering of her heart, the catching of her breath; he loved how she loved music. 

“Don't sing love songs; you'll wake my mother.”  The woman replied in a fearful tone, “She's sleeping here, right by my side.”  She looked to her side, as if her mother were there, and Saadia was completely swept up in the song, “And in her right hand, a silver dagger.  She says that I cannot be your bride.”    
“Oh darling, go and ask your mother, if she will change her mind.”  The man entreated with even more desire and love.  “For me there is no other, no other love I will ever find.”

Farkas noted the way Saadia’s lips looked when she had a small smile on her face, like she did now. 

“All men are false, says my mother.”  The woman replied sadly, “They'll tell you wicked, loving lies.  The very next evening, they'll court another.  Leave you alone to pine and sigh.”  She turned away from the man on the stage, the flute playing mournfully as the accompaniment to her beautiful voice.    
“Oh Darling dear, go ask your mother if you might be a bride of mine.”  The man persisted and Saadia furrowed her brows at him; she had said no; it didn’t matter that it was obvious that she wanted to say yes.  What mattered is that she said no.  He should leave her be. “If she says yes then come and tell me.  If she says no, we'll run away.”  The male singer said with a hopeful smile.

“I cannot go and ask my mother, for I’m her only child and dear.”  She sung with bitter sorrow, putting her hands on his chest, “Oh darling, go and seek some other.”  She looked down sorrowfully.  “I whispered softly in his ear.” 

The male singer put his fingertips on the female singer’s cheek and she looked back up at him. 

“Then darling, go and ask your father.”  He sang, his eyes never leaving the female singer’s eyes, “if my wedding bride you’ll be.”  Saadia could almost believe them to be in love, and she watched intently as Farkas watched her with the same intensity.  “If he says no, return and tell me, and I’ll no longer trouble thee.”  The sorrow and ache in his voice was mesmerising.  Saadia turned her eyes to the woman, awaiting her response. 

“I cannot go and ask my father, for he lies in bed at rest, and beside him lies this silver dagger to slay the one that I love best.”  She sang with real regret in her eyes; sad that she could not be with her love.  The fiddler began to play as the singers kissed, a painful, farewell kiss, both of them moving to the opposite side of the stage, the music softening to just a soft drumbeat, sounding like a heartbeat, the flute sounding like the wind in the trees. 

“He picked up a silver dagger, and he pierced it through his wounded breast.”  The female singer said, her voice cracking with emotion, Saadia’s mouth opening with surprise. 

“Farewell my love, farewell darling; I'll die for the one I love the best.”  The male singer declared, his head dropping as soon as he had finished his lines.  Saadia turned to look at the female singer.  But the music grew again, the female singer seeming to weep.  “So she picked up the blood-stained dagger, and pierced it through her aching chest.”  He sang mournfully.

“Farewell mama, farewell papa; I'll go with the one that I love best.”  She sang powerfully through her tears.  Her head dropped and the fiddler played dramatically; aching sorrow in every note, until the dramatic ending, all the music suddenly stopping like a life cut short.  The audience cheered and threw coins onto the stage.  But Saadia was stunned. 

“What is it with Nords and killing themselves if they can’t be with the one they love?”  She asked, thinking about the spoken poem, the skald piece, Llewellyn had performed about a man wanting to die because his love had died.  Vilkas had defended it, but she couldn’t understand it.

“I have no idea.”  Farkas agreed. 

“I like being alive.”  Saadia said, pulling out some coins for the bards; there was no doubt of their talent – they had moved her with their tale of love.  “The way you Nords tell it, love seems like a dangerous thing.”  Farkas laughed and gave her some coins to take to the stage for him.  When she returned, he put his arm around her waist again.

“Well you don’t have to worry about this Nord killing himself.”  He said and she laughed.

“Thank the Gods!”  She said, “I’m glad you’ll never fall in love with me.”  She said, “Who needs that drama?” 

“Exactly.”  Farkas said and they plunged into the crowds, “I feel like some char-grilled skeever.”

“Really?”  She asked scrunching her nose; skeevers were giant rodents that lived in caves and sewers. 

“It’s quite tasty.”  He told her and she sighed.

“Alright, I’ll try it.  But if it’s bad…”

“I’ll take complete blame.”  He agreed easily. 

They passed most of the next few days like this until Farkas was sent away on work.  He had left before dawn and Saadia was still asleep in his bed when he had had to go. 

When she awoke, she found a plate of food on his bedside table and a short note for her, telling her to enjoy the last 2 days of the festival without him and that she had free use of his room if she wanted it.  Lucia and Lydia had returned to Lakeview Manor, so Breezehome here in Whiterun was lonely and empty.  Saadia seriously considered staying in Jorrvaskr, but the urge to go and fight was also rising in her; maybe she’d take a job and go kill something.  She ate the plate of food he’d left for her and pulled on some leather pants and a plain tunic.  As she left Farkas’s room, the door to Vilkas’s room opened and two women came out.  She looked into his room and saw 2 men and another woman, Vilkas was sitting at his desk, reading a book.  He turned his attention to a scroll, his fingers running down it until he found what he was looking for and he then turned back to the book.  Saadia saw that the book was about all the myths surrounding Kynareth.  He was still trying to fully figure out the blessing Kynareth had given Saadia. 

“You could always come back to bed…?”  One of the men said, running his fingers seductively along Vilkas’s shoulders.

“No, it’s time for you to go now.”  Vilkas said without looking up from the book, “But I did enjoy our time.”  He said looking up at him, and then the other two people left, “I just have a lot to do.”  He said with a warm tone that didn’t sound as dismissive as it truly was.  As he looked down he caught sight of Saadia and closed the book, standing up, his leather pants not laced, hanging lose on his hips.

“Shield-sister.”  He said, smiling, glad to see her. 

“Hope to see you around.”  The woman said and kissed Vilkas’s cheek.  Vilkas gave her a nod.

“Hi.”  Saadia said with a cheeky grin and Vilkas had to smile; he already knew how much teasing this was going to get him over the coming weeks.  She waited for Vilkas’s guests to leave before going into his room.

“It smells like sex and sweat in here.”  She said with a teasing tone. 

“Didn’t you say something about not smelling and privacy?”  He asked with a small grin, taking a bite of an apple as she sat down on the table.  He moved some books out of the way for her and sat back down on his chair, leaning back, his pants not covering the beginnings of his pubic hair. 

“You see, I have a terrible double standard about that.”  She laughed.

“I see.”  He answered.

“In that I can try and smell whatever my little nose can detect about you… but you are not allowed to smell a damn thing about me with your big wolf nose.”  She said with a cheeky grin.

“I accept your terms and conditions.”  He answered, taking another bite of his apple, smiling broadly at her. 

“You weren’t exaggerating about those orgies.”  She was thoroughly amused.

“6 people hardly makes an orgy.”  He answered.  Saadia broke out into laughter and Vilkas stared at her, trying not to laugh.

“So what does make an orgy, in your expert opinion?”  She asked.

“It has to get into double figures.”  He answered.

“So 10 people or more?”  She asked and he nodded.  “By the Gods!”  She giggled and Vilkas laughed, understanding that her reactions came from a lack of sexual experience, not judgment. 

“I’m sure something like that could be organised for you if you wanted?”  He said.  Saadia stopped laughing and looked at his face, not able to read his expression.

“But if you organised it… would you be there?”  She asked.

“Depends.”  He answered. 

“On what?”

“On what you want.”  He answered and she scoffed, shaking her head, not knowing what he meant. 

“So this is something you plan?”  She asked.

“Sometimes.”  He said, “Sometimes they just happen.  Both are fun, but different.”

“How so?”  She asked, fascinated.  He sucked his teeth momentarily, completely amused by her curiosity.  

“Well the ones you organise often have only people there that you want to rut with.”  He answered, “But unorganised orgies have all sorts of people there, sometimes people you’d never considered in that way before.”  His eyes rested steadily on her face and Saadia was glad for her dark skin because she was sure she was blushing.  The frank expression on his face, his honesty, the tiniest hint of suggestion in his voice, his raw unashamed sexuality and obvious prowess was something to behold.  She laughed again.

“Well… um…”  Saadia laughed.

“I can’t believe it!”  He started to laugh delightedly, “You don’t know what to say!” 

“I just…”  She tried to stop laughing, “I’m surprised that you’d leave the decision of whether you’re in an orgy with me, up to me.”  She said finally.  “Since, you know, you’ve never thought of me in that way.”  She finally had her laughing under control.

“Oh well, that’s what orgies are for.”  He shrugged.

“Seeing people in a new light?”

“And also being the only way you’ll ever get to touch certain people.”  He added, his eyes still on her face.  She felt like his sentence had been pointed, even though nothing in the way he delivered it indicated that.

“So basically, that would be the only way I could ever touch you, since I find you attractive, but you do not find me attractive.”  She said sarcastically.  He sucked his teeth again and looked down.

“Something like that.”  He answered, “How’s my brother?” 

“He’s on a job.”  She said, “And as happy and Farkas-like as usual.”  She added.  Vilkas nodded, appreciating her answer.  “Do you really have a lot to do?”  She asked and he nodded.

“I do.”  He pointed out all the books, “Still finding out everything we can about the Silver-Hand and studying maps for a hint of where they’d have the last shard.”  He put his hand on one of the books; detailed maps of Skyrim. 

“And still studying me, I see.”  She said picking up a book about the histories of all known Dragonborns.

“Always.”  He answered honestly.  “I think that when I fully understand you, I’ll have risen to the status of being an actual God.”  He said.

“So it’s not me that’s going to be a God someday; it’s you!”  She joked. 

“You think I have an actual chance of understanding you, woman?”  He asked, “not likely.”

“But you seem to like that.”  She said, sharing his happy smile.

“I do.”  He answered. 

“So I’m still not a person; I’m a God-type mystery to unravel.”  She teased.

“You are many things Dovahkiin.”  Vilkas answered, unfazed by her teasing, “And a person is what you are first and foremost.”  He said seriously.  There was a moment of silence while Saadia took in what he had said; he had changed so much, it seemed to her.  He had worked hard at understanding her, her viewpoint.  And it showed. 

“I asked about how much work you have to do because… I was wondering if you want to come to the Fertility Festival with me today?”  She asked, feeling a strange flutter of nerves in her stomach.  She rolled her eyes when a smile crept onto his face.  “Ugh.”  She said, knowing he had sensed the inexplicable nerves she’d felt.  “But since you’re busy.”  She said, sliding off the table, “I’ll go alone.” 

“I’ll come with you.”  He said, getting up, lacing his pants, drawing her eyes to his groin. 

“Damn twins.”  She muttered and he laughed, understanding her words; why did they have to look so much alike? 

“At least I’m not nearly as pleasant company as my brother.”  He said as he grabbed a shirt, “That makes it easier, doesn’t it?”  He said as he pulled the shirt on over his head and she watched the way his muscles moved.

“Much easier.”  She lied.  She just hoped it had been convincingly.  He slipped his hands into his pockets and nodded for her to lead the way.

When they got out into the streets, the delicious smells of the street food stalls were the first thing that greeted her. 

“You do know that the last few days of the festival are adults only?”  He asked and she nodded.

“That’s why I sent Lucia home to Lakeview Manor.”  She answered. 

“And you are taking your lover’s brother out into the streets, smelling like sex, on the adults only days…”  He said, amused, “It’s bound to start rumours.”  He teased.

“Ugh.  I don’t care.”  She lied. 

“But you do.”  His teasing gone. 

“It’s just hard having everyone talking about you, and having an opinion on every part of your life…. And by you, I mean, me…”  She said softly.  “You know I met a travelling bard who thought Farkas and me were betrothed because of the gossip in Whiterun, and he told me that the only way that the relationship could have been written better is if it were with you.”  Vilkas looked taken aback by that.  “Because people see you as more kingly than Farkas.”  She shook her head, “The whole world cares not for me, only for what I might do for them.  And I wouldn’t mind that, if they could just let me have some peace.  So I’m trying not to care about gossip.” 

“There is a feeling that you’ll save everything, and part of that is that some feel that the Empire is supposed to be led by a Dragonborn.  I understand the pressure that puts on you.”  He sighed, “I’m sorry, do you want me to go?”

“No.  I don’t.”  She said firmly, “I want to walk around the festival with my fellow Companion, my friend, without rumours starting.”  She lowered her eyes.  “Sorry about the kingly thing.  Do you want to go?”

“No.”  He answered, “And I’ve been called worse things than kingly and a good match for the Dragonborn.”  He said as he uncharacteristically laced his arm through hers, “Let’s go have fun.”

They headed off towards the food stalls, the crowd milling around them, garnering not so subtle looks.  Saadia could count the amount of times Vilkas had initiated physical contact with her, that wasn’t fighting or while asleep, on one hand.  And it always seemed to be only when she needed comfort.  When she needed him.  She held his arm gratefully; he was a good friend. 

“So what worse things have you been called?”  She asked and he sighed.

“How did I know you’d ask?”  He said shaking his head, but obviously amused.  “When I was about 20, we had some brothers, whelps; Rhorod and Crird.  And Rhorod said some very… disgusting things about me, that I won’t repeat because they’re too hateful, accusing me of being a man that ruts with men.”  He said and Saadia cocked an eyebrow at him, “Which I do.”  He shrugged, “But it really made me realise that I couldn’t follow the ancient Nord traditions like I wanted to, like I try to still, because some of them are awful.  In our past… Nords were very intolerant of anything other than men with penises, rutting women with vaginas.”  He said sadly, “It made me question everything about myself and what I was implicitly supporting by loving the old ways so much.” 

“What happened?”

“I beat the shit out of him and threw him out of Jorrvaskr.  I was a Circle member, and I demanded respect.”  He answered.

“Of course.”  Saadia said with a nod, “But what did his brother do?”

“Crird stayed on with us for a few more years until he moved out with his wife to Riften, still a Companion, still does jobs.  His family is under our protection of course, as are the families of all Companions.”  He said, “But the whole thing with the brothers was very awkward though.”

“I bet.”

“Yeah because I’d bedded Crird before he was a Companion.”  Vilkas said and Saadia laughed. 

“And his brother didn’t know?”

“Nope.”  Vilkas said, also amused.  “Rhorod couldn’t understand why Crird wouldn’t come to his defence.”  He sighed, “So I had to reassess myself and all the things I believed in.”  He said, “Had to learn how to have my own morals and to have beliefs without being a horker’s arse about it.” 

“It seems so strange that Nords were once like that.”  Saadia said, “Imperials are still like that!”  She remembered Camilla’s woes. 

“Skyrim has a lot of darkness in its history.”  He said, “In its present too.”  He said thinking of the Khajiit traders who were never allowed inside any city walls.  “There was a time when all women were treated like sexual servants and baby making machines.”  He said, “That’s actually why Gropekunte Lane is called that; because there used to be only women wenches, women with kuntes of course.  And being a wench was the only way a woman could make any coin for herself.  A lot of women were forced into it by poverty.  Nowadays, wenches genuinely love their work; no one is doing it because they have to for the coin.  And of course, we have lots of different types of wenches.” 

“How did it all change?”  She asked.  Vilkas enjoyed her insatiable curiosity for everything.

“Well it hasn’t all changed; there are still some places and people who believe we should be more like the old ways than the new ways – so there’s still work to do.”  He said, “But Talos is where it started.”  He said simply.  “Talos was the first to codify women’s rights into law across all of Tamriel.  In some places, they’d already been doing what he made law.  But for Skyrim it was a wakeup call.  We took it to heart; home-grown lad and all.”  He said.  “Got rid of centuries of traditions, just like that.  It was very liberating I hear.  For both men and women.  But mostly for women!”  He shook his head, “But some old horker’s arses thought he was only making the law to appease the Beastfolk who had never had any kind of misogyny in their culture and thought we were backwards.”  He said, “Which we were.”  He added as an aside before continuing, “So they wanted to stick to the old Nord ways.  The old traditions.  And people like that still exist thousands of years later.” 

“Like my father I suppose…”  She said thoughtfully, “What kind of traditions are we talking about?”  She wondered if they were like her father’s ideals. 

“Like, a woman belonged to her father or older brother or uncle or male cousin... until she was wed to a man of her father’s choosing, then she belonged to her husband.”  He sounded disgusted by the idea, “And I mean belonged, like a pair of shoes, not belonged like the poetic romantic, soul mates, we belong together, idea.”  He added, “Women could be won in battles, contests, sporting competitions… they could be bought and sold; fathers gave their daughters to their friends as gifts.  They were treated like inanimate objects.  Pretty objects to be owned.”  Saadia watched his face as he spoke, they walked slowly through the crowds, their arms interlocked.  “They were not permitted to have sexual pleasure without their owner’s permission… Some men took to mutilating women’s genitals to be sure they never had an orgasm.”

“By the Gods…”  Saadia was glad that this had never been done to her.  Her father wasn’t that bad at least. 

“Women were to cook and clean and work the fields and bear children and nothing else.  Marriages were only between men and women, and all other types of people were put to death…”  They stopped at a food stall, not really looking at the food yet, “Camilla, for example, would have been executed.  Instead of being seen as the beautiful woman she is.  And being loved, and about to be married.”

“You know about Camilla too?”  She asked, surprised; Camilla kept it to herself for the most part.

“Sure… Farkas told me.”  He said, turning his attention to the food.

“How much does he tell you?”  Saadia asked, realising that there was no way Farkas hadn’t discussed her with his brother.

“A little too much sometimes.”  He answered with a cheeky grin.

“Like what?”  She asked, horrified.

“Just… you’re enthusiastic.”  He teased.

“You’re enjoying this!”  Saadia said, he laughed at her expression and she shook her head.  “I don’t think I want to know what he’s told you.”  She said, trying to put on a stony face, but worrying that her relative inexperience had been discussed.

“And that you’re a very quick learner.”  He added as if reading her mind, “So that things you’d never experienced before, fast become yet another thing you’re the best at.”  He said and she turned her face to him, trying not to look hopeful that Farkas hadn’t said something bad about her lack of experience.  She saw only truth on his face; Farkas had only said good things. 

“Well… I like to be good at things.”  She said, trying to sound unaffected.  Vilkas laughed.

“So I’ve heard.”  He teased.

“I’m going to punch you in the face if you keep that up.”  She warned.

“I look forward to it.”  He almost sounded turned on by her words and she had to look at him, but he was looking at the food again, a cheeky grin on his face. 

They got some food and walked through the craft stalls, eating in silence, their arms still laced together. 

“So where to Dragonborn?  You’re in charge,” He asked, “On this, the first of the adult’s only days of the Fertility Festival.”  He said with a barely contained teasing tone. 

“I believe you were going to take me to Gropekunte Lane.”  She said, “Seems like a good day for it.”

“A very good day for it!”  He laughed. 

They headed towards the Halls of the Dead; Gropekunte Lane was behind it, with a long corridor dug out underground to continue the lane on for nearly 5 times as long as the above ground section. 

The lane was decorated with all sorts of wonderfully lewd decorations, cocks and kuntes drawn on the walls in lipstick, the people of Whiterun, touring the lane to support the important work the wenches did; many of them taking them up on their trade as well.  Dibellan necklaces were on sale, and wearing them indicated a desire to rut.

Saadia hadn’t been to the lane; having always been too busy, or having Lucia with her, or a thousand other reasons.  To be honest she was a little intimidated by the sheer amount of knowledge and sexual prowess these people had. 

There were dozens of wenches along the street in barely any clothing, and she noticed little shops; with beautiful images painted on the doors. 

“So see the door with all the warriors on it?”  He asked and she nodded, “It’s a general brothel.  But over there where the dual wielding fighters are painted on the door?” 

“Yeah.”  She said looking over to the door, “That’s for people that are part man part woman.  So if you want a wench like that, go there.”  Saadia nodded, her eyes opened wide in delight.  “And the sword wielding warriors.”  He pointed to another door.

“Male wenches.”  Saadia guessed.

“That’s it.”  He nodded, “And the axes are female wenches.”  He nodded to a door with a gorgeous, fat woman in shiny armour, a horned helmet and a big axe on her shoulder painted on it. 

“And what are the mages?”  She asked looking at the door with a mage on it.

“Well they wield no weapon.”  He said and Saadia stared blankly at him for a moment.

“As in they have no genitals?”

“That or they identify as neither male or female.”  He said. 

“I thought mages weren’t well liked in Skyrim.”  She said.

“Well yes, but not when it comes to wenches.”  He said with a shrug.  “And see the green door there, with the warrior with… every type of weapon?” 

“Yes…”

“For Argonian wenches; they can change gender at any time.  I had one decide to grow a cock halfway through sex… it was very exciting.”  He said.  She started to giggle again and he laughed, thoroughly delighted by her giggling.  “There’s more underground.”  He said and they headed down the stairs.  “So down here is based more on what people are wanting to do.”  Vilkas said.

“I love being double-teamed!”  A male wench said to them with a wink. 

“No thanks.”  Vilkas answered him with a grin.  Saadia looked around, completely taken aback, and also slightly turned on.  Down here, people were having sex openly on the street.  “Obviously there’s stuff for people who like to be seen by others.”  He said seeing where she was looking.  “And over there is a brothel for people who like pain.”  He said, “And that’s piss play.”  He pointed at another brothel.

“What?”  She asked and he shrugged.

“People do all sorts of weird things with sex.”  He said simply, before pointing to another brothel.  “Gangbangs, great if you want to be absolutely covered in semen.”  He laughed. 

“I don’t even know what to say to that.”  She answered.  

“It’s gets very depraved down here.”  He answered with a grin.

“You’re very dirty.”  She answered.

“You have no idea.”  He said, his eyes on hers. 

“I’m starting to get an idea.”  She said looking away to take in everything she could; Gropekunte Lane was amazing.

“At the end of the lane there’s a big open area.”  He said.  “An underground park with a huge statue to the Goddess Dibella.” 

“For orgies, right?”  She joked.

“Sometimes.”  He answered.

“Really?”

“Sometimes.”  He repeated.  “But during the Fertility Festival it’s for the Lucky Dip.”  He told her as they continued down the lane, “Basically you give your details to the games master and mistress, along with your details, like who you don’t want to fuck; like your relatives and people you hate.  And then you’re given a number and the number is put in a big barrel with everyone else’s numbers.”  He continued to explain, “And numbers are pulled out at random and then you’re led away to rut the other person or people who’s numbers got pulled out of the barrel.  Sometimes just 2 people, sometimes more.”

“You could end up with anyone!”

“Exactly, that’s why it’s a Lucky Dip.”  He answered.  “Except if you get paired with someone you don’t want of course, then they put your number back in the barrel.”

“Of course.”  She nodded.

“They also give you a tincture of nightshade, for your eyes and throat.”  He told her.

“Why?”

“It makes you partially blind and alters your voice for about 2 to 3 hours.  You can still see basic objects and light and shade, but no details, and you can’t recognise people from their voices.”  He said, “So you never know who you fucked.” 

“Wow…”

“It’s rumoured that that’s how Jarl Balgruuf ended up with his bastard son.”  Vilkas said, “And why no one knows who the mother is.” 

“I would think everyone would be agreeing to use Deathbell at things like this.”  She said and he nodded.

“It is part of the rules for people who can get pregnant; they have to agree to take Deathbell.”  He said.  “It’s supposed to be a thrilling, consequence free, fun time with someone, and you’ll never know who.”  Vilkas said, “Most people I know who have done it, really enjoyed it.”

“Did you?”

“Oh I haven’t done it.”  He said, looking at the man and woman pulling numbers out of the barrel and pairing people up, servants to the master and mistress preparing people, leading people away, keeping everything running.  “I prefer to look at the person or people I’m fucking.”  He said. 

They stared at the spectacle for a while.  People were given the tincture as soon as they put their number in the barrel.  She saw people she knew being led off and opened her mouth in surprise.

“Of course, we also agree to never talk about it.”  Vilkas said as she saw Saadia watching a temporarily blinded Iman and Ysolda being taken off to a quiet place to enjoy each other’s bodies until a servant retrieved them before the tincture ran out, “It’s part of the deal, even though we see some things, we never tell them.” 

“Understood.”  She said, nodding her head slowly.  “We should do it!”  She said suddenly. 

“You do realise that if we both go in it, we might end up together.”  He asked, half amused, half serious.  “And then we would fuck each other.”  He said softly. 

“And never know it.”  She said.  “And the chances are pretty low.  There’s a lot of numbers in the barrel.”  She noticed; the barrel was see-through.  “And we’d never know if it was each other.  That just adds to the danger and excitement.”  She said with a grin.  “We’ll never know who it was…” 

He stared at her face for a long time, both of them trying to decipher the other one.  Saadia had to admit that there was a part of her that hoped it was Vilkas; she was attracted to him after all.  But mostly she just wanted the excitement of the Lucky Dip, and she wasn’t brave enough to do it alone.  She also knew he didn’t find her attractive, so she knew he’d refuse, and that would be the end of it; a momentary flirtation with ‘danger’. 

“Is that the game we’re playing here, Dovahkiin?”  He asked with a soft, intense voice.  Saadia couldn’t understand everything in the tone of his voice; it was complicated and filled with undertones.  “Do we want the possibility of fucking?  Of not knowing?”  He asked and she became acutely aware of his arm in hers, a slight shudder going through his body.  Did the thought disgust him that much?  Is that why he shuddered?  Or did he find it exciting?  Was it a shiver of thrilling delight?  She couldn’t tell by the look on his face.  And she didn’t really know how to answer his question.

And then the thought of Farkas entered her mind.  Was it wrong of her to have attraction to Farkas’s brother… his twin brother no less. 

And still his eyes were on her face as he awaited her answer. 

“Let’s do it next year.”  She said, the words barely leaving her mouth.  She wasn’t sure if she was answering the right way.  He paused for another long moment and then nodded.

“Next year it is.”  He said with an unreadable expression.  His eyes lingered on her face for a moment before he turned to look back at the barrel, and Saadia felt like she could breathe again.  She furrowed her brows and thought about what had just happened.  She knew it was to be expected that she would find him somewhat attractive; he looked almost exactly like Farkas, who was honestly one of the most attractive men she’d ever seen.  Which, given they were twins, made Vilkas, also one of the most attractive men she’d ever seen.  But in the past, there hadn’t been the type of magnetism she’d felt with Farkas. But now the magnetism between them was intense.

And then she understood; their friendship was making her mix things up.  She cared about him as a friend, and of course, because he looked like Farkas, she was mistaking things.  She breathed easier, finally understanding what was going on inside of her and looked back at Vilkas’s face, he was watching numbers being pulled out of the barrel, sucking his teeth. 

“Come on.”  She said, “Take me to have a look inside one of the brothels.”  She said, “So that when I finally decide to hire a wench, I won’t be so scared to go inside of one!”  She laughed at herself and a smile instantly came to his face. 

“Alright,” He said turning them away from the barrel, “I’ll take you to the general brothel; it’ll be less scary.”  He teased.

“Oh thank you!”  She answered sarcastically, still laughing with him though. 

“I won’t take you to the Pain Den.”  He said with a teasing grin.

“Pain… Den…?”  She asked him, looking at his face, the teasing grin on his lips.  “Like a bit of pain, do you?”

“Sometimes.”  He said, “When I’m in the mood for it, it’s very good.  But when I’m not… it’s terrible.”  He added. 

“You make it sound like you’ve rutted more than Farkas…”  She said.

“I probably have.”  He answered, “But he’s definitely bedded more people than me.”  He added, “He can just go up to anyone and have them.  I think there aren’t many people that would say no to him.  Probably just people who don’t like cocks, and me.”  He said.  “But then I’m almost certain he could convince some of the no-cock-fuckers.”  He said.  “He just has a charm about him.”  He shook his head.  “So I prefer to come here and explore all elements of sexuality; I tend to see the same people, depending on my mood.”  He said, “And only occasionally bed people who aren’t wenches.” 

“Why don’t you bed people as easily as Farkas does?”  She asked him.  “I mean, why don’t you just charm them like him?  You’re just as attractive as he is…?”

They walked in silence for a moment while Vilkas sucked his teeth. 

“The last woman I thought I might try to charm…”  He said, turning his eyes to her as they slowly walked down Gropekunte Lane their arms still laced together, “walked into the Bannered Mare and sat down at my table.  And I thought her to be the most beautiful being I had ever seen.”  He said a deep yearning in his voice.

“What did you say to her?”  She asked.

“Not much at all.”  He said.

“Why not?”  She asked, amazed that he hadn’t spoken to this woman. 

“I wondered if she wouldn’t rather just enjoy her time at the inn without everyone trying to get in her pants.”  He said, “She’s honestly the most beautiful Human being.”  He said, “I have no doubt there’s a constant demand on her from people wanting to bed her… I considered that as I looked at her, wondered if I shouldn’t just let her have some peace, enjoy the bard, enjoy her drink… just leave her be.”  He sighed, “Not everyone is looking to bed someone just because they’re in an inn.”

“That’s true.”  Saadia said, “But there’s no harm in asking.”  She said, “The problem is rarely that people ask, the problem is usually that they don’t take no for an answer, or they don’t take it gracefully.”  She said, “That’s not you Vilkas.”  She said firmly, “You were fully wolfing on me, growling your head off, and I said no, and you got it together.”  She told him in a low voice, aware that this was private, “And I don’t want to hear that Hircine had anything to do with it; it was all you.  So… ask the woman when you next see her.  If she says no, which I doubt she will, you’ll take it gracefully, and no harm is done.”  She said and he sucked his teeth before scoffing slightly.  “What?”  She asked.

“You always see me as better than I am.”  He answered. 

“No I don’t.  I see you as you are.”  She told him, “I’m not some storyteller, writing on the pages of your book.”  She shook her head, “I’m just a looking glass.  Showing you who you are.” 

They stared at each other for a moment.

“But I like who you show me.”  He said, “More than I’ve liked myself in a long while.” 

“Good.”  She said looking very pleased with herself.  “So what happened with the woman?  Did she enjoy the night alone?  Or was she maybe secretly wishing you’d say something to her?”

“Farkas bedded her.”  Vilkas said, his jaw tightening slightly. 

“Oh.”  She lowered her eyes. 

“It’s alright.”  He said, “I’m used to his charm.” 

“You know, if you had tried it on with me, I would have taken you to my bed.”  She told him, “You’re probably wondering what to do with that information, since it literally has nothing to do with you; you were never going to try it on with me!”  She said with a laugh, “But I tell you because I am sure that I’m not the only person who would say yes if you only asked.” 

“I’ll take your words under advisement.”  He said slowly, looking away.

“And go and talk to that woman.”  She ordered him and he sucked his teeth again. 

“Perhaps.”  He said, “But unlikely.”  He added.

“Why?”  She demanded.

“That’s another one of those things that I am going to choose to keep to myself.”  He answered.  She narrowed her eyes at him and shook her head.

“Stubborn arse.”  She muttered and he grinned again.  “Just because Farkas has bedded her it doesn’t mean-”

“Oh I know.”  He said, “If Farkas and I were to never bed the same people… well I’d practically never have sex!”  He laughed, “but… there’s quite a few people he’d have missed out on too.”  Vilkas shrugged. 

“Then I don’t know what the problem is.  Talk to her.”  Saadia said, “Might make you happier.” 

“Perhaps.”  He repeated.

“Why does your ‘perhaps’ sound like ‘not likely’?”  She sighed. 

“Because you like to have things your way.”  He answered.

“That’s true.”  She agreed, “And you once said you couldn’t deny me anything.”  Saadia seized on the memory, “So that’s it – talk to her!”  He sighed and lowered his eyes.

“If the moment arises, wherein talking to her about these things is appropriate, I will consider it.”  He answered as they headed upstairs, out of the tunnel.

“Said very diplomatically.”  Saadia laughed, “Just tell her she’s beautiful!”  She suggested, “I still can’t figure out what to do when Farkas tells me that, but it sure does make me feel good.” 

“I have told her she’s beautiful.”  Vilkas said.

“So… you have talked to her…?”  She narrowed her eyes.  “What did she say?” 

“I don’t know that she believed me.”  He said softly.

“Then make her believe you!”  She said passionately and he had to smile at her determination, “I know you and Farkas think it’s hilarious, but you really do have the soul of a poet… a bard or whatever.  I’ve seen it!  I’ve seen you say beautiful things… if she saw that side of you, perhaps things would be different between the two of you.”  Saadia watched his eyes go skyward for a moment and knew he was frustrated by her words.

“Things are different between us now.”  He said patiently, “But… I will take your words under advisement.”  He said and she narrowed her eyes at him.

“Which means ignore them.”  She said grumpily.  He started to laugh and she pulled a face at him before also laughing. 

“I just want you to be happy.  As happy as you can possibly be.”  She added. 

“I’m fairly happy right now Dovahkiin.  Don’t worry – you have much bigger things to focus on than me.” 

“I mean Alduin is physically bigger than you… but you’re family.”  She said, “If the Companions hadn’t have taken me in…”  She shook her head.

“You’d have been just fine.”  He said as they approached the door of the general brothel. 

“You have too much faith in me.”

“I have the exact right amount of faith in you.”  He disagreed as he opened the door. 

Inside were dozens of people, all engaged in sex together. 

Saadia’s jaw dropped, her eyes taking it all in.  She saw a woman being penetrated by three men; her mouth, kunte and arsehole filled with cock.  And Saadia was instantly turned on; she could feel herself getting wet. 

She heard Vilkas take a deep breath, a soft growl on the exhale. 

“So this is an orgy…” She could barely hide the desire in her voice as she continued to look; there was no one there she knew.  But there were people there she would have never had sex with… but right now she wanted to throw herself right into the middle of it and enjoy every last one of these people.  She understood what Vilkas had meant now.  Adults engaged in pleasurable, consensual sex, were all beautiful, attractive… She felt the muscles in Vilkas’s arm tighten slightly. 

“Yes.”  He said simply. 

“Do you think… it’s an organised one, or…?” 

Vilkas could hear the desire in her voice. 

“Well, we’re being invited to join.”  He noted the couple who were waving for them to come on in…

“So… I guess, an accidental orgy.”  She tried to joke.  “Should we do it?”  She asked lustfully.

“Do you want to?”  He asked. 

“Yes…”  She answered her face turning to him, their eyes meeting.

“Is this the way we’re playing, woman?”  He asked softly, a slight hint of amber in his eyes.  She could see him not breathing in too deeply.  This was getting to him. 

Saadia laughed slightly, unable to take her eyes off his hungry eyes.  She dropped her arm from his and turned to look at him straight on.

“You keep asking me…”

“I do.”

“Leaving the decision up to me.”

“I am.”

“That’s dangerous for you.”

“Why?”

“Because if it were up to you, the answer would always be no.”

“And?”

“Well I might not always answer no.”  Saadia was surprised by the words leaving her mouth.  But it was the truth.  Vilkas was her friend, but he was still undeniably attractive.  And it’s not like she was in an actual relationship with Farkas… was it really that wrong? 

“I can always refuse you if I want to… If you ever actually say yes to one of these little games.”  He answered simply. 

“You shouldn’t say things like that.”

“Why’s that?”

“It makes you a very safe person for me to hone my flirting skills with.”  She said with humour and the tension eased slightly. 

“I can take it.”  He answered, “Give me all you’ve got, woman.”  And he took a deep breath, the amber growing a little stronger in his eyes. 

Saadia was just about to suggest they leave when the man from the couple that had invited them in, joined them, kissing Saadia’s hand. 

“Hi.”

“Hello…”  He said looking her up and down, his erection glistening.  He walked behind Saadia and started to kiss her neck.

“Oh…”  She said, surprised, “Wow…”  His mouth was making some kind of magic happen with her skin; he knew exactly what he was doing.  A wench.  And a skilled one.  Saadia felt her insides turning to goo; she wanted this so badly.  She looked back at Vilkas and saw his eyes on her neck, where the man was kissing her.  There was so much lust and desire in his eyes it was remarkable.  But he was managing to not growl.  The wench’s hands went to her breasts, gripping them firmly he looked over her shoulder to Vilkas.

“Shall we spit-roast her, friend?”  He asked Vilkas bawdily, and Saadia could see that Vilkas wanted to answer yes. 

“Spit roast?”  Saadia asked.

“Well it’s when,” The wench’s hand dropped to her arse, his fingers tracing along the seam of her pants until he was touching her kunte from behind, “I put my cock here.”  He said “and he,” the wench’s other hand went to her lips, “Puts his cock here.”  He said, and Saadia licked his finger, Vilkas’s eyes on her mouth.  “You want that don’t you?”  He asked and she nodded; the feel of his hands moving over her body was wonderful. 

She looked at Vilkas, inviting him to join them with her eyes.  And she saw that he wanted to, saw his hand twitched as he stepped forward, his eyes going from her mouth to her eyes; the deep lust rippling from him made her kunte throb.

And he took another deep breath as he took another step closer, the amber in his eyes growing.  

But Saadia worried that the amber in his eyes might become too strong, that he might growl too much…

She gently, and very reluctantly, pulled away from the wench.

“Definitely at next year’s festival.”  She told him.

“Well you two come and find me.”  He said with an inviting grin.

“Definitely.”  She said.  He nodded and went back to the orgy without another word, Saadia watching him go.  “I’d usually not find him attractive…”  She said shaking her head.  “Now all I can think about is… Spit-roast, and…”  She stopped herself and took Vilkas’s hand.  “Come on let’s get you out of here.”  She said and headed back out the way they came in. 

“Why are we getting me out of here?”  He asked, his voice gravelly with desire.

“Your eyes.”  She answered and he nodded.

“I see.”  He said, “It’s nothing really.  There’s no danger; I have it under better control than that…”  He reassured her.

“I know… it’s just – how do you have orgies and things like that without, you know, growling or something?”  She took a deep breath, “I felt like growling in desire, how do you stop it?”

“Oh that’s…”  He shook his head.  “That’s very rarely a problem.”  He said and cleared his throat. 

“But…” She stopped walking and looked at him, still holding his hand.  But he looked at her for only a moment before lowering his eyes.  “It’s me, isn’t it?”  She asked and he cleared his throat again, sucking his teeth.  “I’m the one who makes your eyes go amber…  It doesn’t happen for other people…?” 

“The wolf…” He said in a very soft voice, “Is very in tune with you.”  He said, “I don’t know why… it’s not like anything I’ve experienced before.”  He said, “It’s involuntary.”

“You could smell…”  She let go of his hand, feeling almost angry.  “You could smell my kunte…?”  She said in a low voice.  And he kept his eyes lowered, not wanting to look her in the eye.

“I tried not to.”  He said, “But… yes.”  He could smell that she was getting wet when she saw the orgy.  “When I have sex with people, that’s all me.  No problems.”  He said, “And that orgy would have been a lot of fun for me… no wolf in sight.  But with you there, it’s… harder…”  He looked up at her, “I’m sorry.” 

“No, you can’t help it.”  she said softly, but still feeling a mix of emotions she needed time to unpackage.  “I guess you’re not really a safe target for flirting practice.”  She said with a small smile. 

“I can handle it.”  He said, “A few weeks ago that in there… the smell of you would have…”  He shook his head, “I think nothing short of a no from you would have stopped me from having you.”  He said, “Stopped the wolf in me from having you.”  He corrected.  “But now… we’re friends, I spend more time around you and your smell… it’s easier.  Eventually it won’t be hard at all.” 

“Is this thing common?”  She asked and he hesitated.  “Vilkas?”

“Skjor and Aela have it… for each other.  But they both try to hide it.”  He said slowly, wondering if he was saying too much.  She crossed her arms and sat down on a bench across from several wenches talking to prospective clients.  Vilkas sat down beside her. 

“But they’re in love with each other and they deny it.”  She said.  “You don’t love me; you don’t even want me in any way…”  She said and Vilkas looked away. 

“No one knows why the wolf does what it does.”  He said, “Sometimes it matches who we are, sometimes not.”  He cleared his throat, “I’ve always been unlucky in that regard.”

“Really unlucky.”  She noted and he nodded.

“You have no idea.” 

“I bet.”  She agreed.  “Worse than the Corrupted Shade poison.”  She said with a reassuring grin.  “But you know, at least you have an excuse.  What’s mine for that little display in there.”  She shook her head. 

“It’s alright.  I look like my brother, I get it.”  He said softly. 

“You’re not just second-place prize for him you know?”  She said, “I actually enjoy our time together.”

“I know.  But I also know you’d rather have your time with him.”  Vilkas answered, looking at his hands.  “And that’s fine.  It’s as it should be.”

“Maybe this will sound strange to you Vilkas but… not really.”  She said, “Don’t get me wrong; I love spending time with Farkas.  So much.  But you’re…”  She paused, trying to think of how to describe it.  “I guess you’re… my best friend.”  He looked up at her.  “I know it’s foolish, we’ve only known each other a few months, but it’s not like I had a chance to really make friends at any other point in my life.  And with you… there’s an honesty.  I tell you things I don’t tell anyone else.  And I know you tell me things you don’t tell anyone else.”

“That’s true.”  He agreed. 

“And I know you don’t tell me everything, but no one ever tells anyone everything.”  She shrugged, “But I feel like I know where I stand with you.” 

“Likewise.”  He answered.  “Even though sometimes I have no idea where I stand with you.”  He laughed, “It always becomes clear.” 

“The time I have with you is very important to me.  It’s vital.”  She said.  “I feel very lucky to know you.”  She took his hand again, “Really, I enjoy spending time with both of you equally.”  She said, “And I know that Farkas almost always gets in first, and that’s okay most of the time.  But sometimes when I come to Jorrvaskr, it’s you I really want to see.” 

His fingers closed tightly around hers.

“I like best friend.”  He said with a smile. 

“Yeah?”  She asked, “Thank the Gods, I was worried I was looking like a total fool.”  She laughed.  He shook his head, amused by her words. 

“I still don’t understand you.  You are adored by everyone in this city; you can kill Dragons and take down hundreds of foes… but you’re worried if I’ll think you a fool for telling me you think of me as a close friend.”

“My closest friend.”  She corrected. 

“The closest of friends.”  He agreed.

 


	18. Part 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hey everyone, i'm slowly on the mend! they still don't know why my lung partially collapsed and all that jazz, but it's mending. 
> 
> once we get to part 20 of this story, that will be the end of book 1, then it'll be on to book 2 (i've already written 30 parts for book 2) - we're close to the end of this book!!
> 
> thanks again for reading and all your lovely comments! i love reading them - thank you, thank you, thank you!!

She sat on the rock and watched the Northwatch Keep, her mind taking note of every small detail she saw.  Like how the guards were lax at the changing of the guard, and the back entrance had only one guard while the front had two, and usually a dozen soldiers trained in the courtyard in the morning.  And the doors to the keep were all locked, but the keys were invisible, so she’d never be able to pickpocket a key; not that she knew how to pickpocket…

But she did know how to pick a lock. 

She didn’t know how many people would be in the Keep, so she had no idea how severe the battle would be. 

“So these are Thalmor…”  She muttered, watching the Altmer guards talking together.  They didn’t look so scary.  But she had seen that even Vilkas, Farkas and Aela gave pause before talking about them; they were feared and loathed by warriors she deeply respected.  Hadvar had spoken about the dark Magicks they wielded on one of the nights they had spent talking.  She missed him; he was back with the Legion now.  She worried about him every time she thought about him. 

Saadia had a feeling she shouldn’t underestimate the Thalmor. 

She decided to test the waters and jumped off the rock, heading through the long grass, through the pine forest, towards the Keep. 

“You have no business here so keep walking!”  The guard said, drawing his sword, his eyes never leaving Saadia. 

“I was just wondering if-” Saadia began.

“That’s privileged information.”  He replied instantly.  “Now move along.”  The threat in his tone was growing.

“I didn’t ask anything yet.”  She asked, amused.  She noted the strength of their armour, the deadliness of their weapons; these were no rag-tag bunch of bandits.  They weren’t even the organised Silver-Hand.  This was a proper military force; trained, well-equipped, deadly, disciplined. 

“Move.  Along.  Redguard.” 

She could tell by his voice that this would be his last warning. 

“Correct me if I’m wrong… but you couldn’t beat Hammerfell could you?”  She asked.  After the Empire had declared Hammerfell no longer part of the Empire, the Aldmeri Dominion had attacked the country; it was a 5 year war ending in a stalemate and a peace treaty.  Saadia suspected that the same would happen if the Aldmeri Dominion tried to take Skyrim; the Nords and the Redguard were the true warriors of the Human races.  And they would not be conquered. 

“There’s still plenty of time to rectify that.”  The High Elf said, pointing his sword at her, raising his other hand, a fireball suddenly appearing above his palm, his eyes seeming to glow with blackness. 

“If you were so strong, why didn’t take Hammerfell?  Why didn’t you keep the Great War going?”  She asked, “You were as weakened as the Empire, and you’re still weak.”

The Elf’s eyes flashed with rage.

“Arkar!”  A voice came from behind the Altmer, “Control yourself!”  The female Altmer came into view; clearly high ranked, her eyes looking down on Saadia with disgust.  “This Human is of no importance.”

“I was just wanting to know if you had a prisoner named Thorald in there?”  Saadia asked, already knowing what the answer would be.

“Even if we did, we wouldn’t tell scum like you.”  She answered, “Be gone Human, or be dead.  I leave the choice in your hands.” 

“Tough choice.”  Saadia said with a smile.  “How many soldiers have you got garrisoned here?”  She asked, “I’m a citizen of Skyrim, I have a right to know.”

“No.”  She answered, “You don’t.  We have the right to keep as many troops in Skyrim as we see fit, and to do what we like to anyone who dares to stand against us.”

“Or worship Talos.”  The man said, “Even if you do it in secret, we’ll know.” 

“I don’t really care about Talos…”  Saadia said, her eyes on the woman, behind her troops were leaving the Keep, lining up in a show of strength.  “I do care about you being on Skyrim’s soil though.”  She said dangerously. 

“You’re free to try and do something about it.” 

Saadia let her eyes turn to the small army gathered in the courtyard.

“No I don’t think so.”  She said, pretending to back down, to be scared of their show of force. 

The 2 elves smiled triumphantly. 

“I thought so.”  She said and Saadia nodded respectfully before turning to go; a smile creeping onto her face as she walked away.  They’d shown her exactly what she had wanted to know.

She started to run when she was out of sight of the Keep, running back to Whiterun; she needed to get a plan together.  She thought about using her Fast Travel spell, but still mistrusted magic and really, she enjoyed the run.  So she settled into a good rhythm, a happy smile on her face.

But journeys in Skyrim are never that easy.

It was the giants that started it all…

She had come across one of their camps as she ran.  He had not taken kindly to that.

Saadia had wanted to back out and leave him to his mammoth cheese; she had read that giants were mostly peaceful unless provoked.

He was having none of that.  He came running after her, his club held high.

Saadia turned and swung her hammer at his ankles; giants are tall…

And he stomped his foot at her, nearly squashing her underneath his foot. 

In the end she had sliced his Achilles tendons open with her dagger, sending the giant sprawling to the ground.  She’d given him a quick death then; slamming her hammer into his skull repeatedly. 

It had been her first giant kill…

And then she remembered that Arcadia needed giant’s toes for a potion she was brewing.

Saadia looked down at the disgusting feet of the giant and sliced off all of its toes, wrapping them in some cloth from the giant’s loin cloth and shoving them in her satchel. 

“It’s going to take me a month to get the smell of giant loincloth out of my bag.”  She sighed.

And then the mammoths had seen her and charged. 

6 of the giant creatures, enraged, their giant tusks as sharp as razors, their trunks hitting as hard as a warhammer. 

“By the Gods!”  She swore as she decided to run.  She tried to picture Whiterun, so she could Fast Travel there, but the adrenalin of the fight was making it impossible. 

She ran fast.

But mammoths can run fast too, and one hit her with his swinging trunk, sending her flying. 

She landed with a thud and groaned to herself as she got up.

But mammoths are also not very bright creatures, and they were standing around, confused; not sure where she was.  So Saadia ducked behind some nearby bushes while the mammoths snorted loudly, their eyes focussed on where she would be if she had kept running straight ahead, and not to the side where they had sent her flying to. 

Saadia was sure she could kill 1 or maybe 2 mammoths, but 6 was a big ask, much like killing 2 Dragons at the same time would be.  So she waited them out. 

It didn’t take long for them to lose interest and head back to the giant camp.

“Ugh, should have used Kyne’s Peace…”  She remembered that she knew a Word from a Shout that soothed wild animals. 

Saadia headed on home to Whiterun with no further incidents. 

She headed straight for Arcadia’s Cauldron to get rid of the giant’s toes. 

As soon as she opened the door she saw Vilkas sitting in a chair with an amused look.

“People in Skyrim don’t take Brain Rot seriously enough because they think it only affects Magicka,” Arcadia was lecturing, “But let me tell you young Vilkas, it does a lot more than that!  It lessens your reasoning skills!  And I suppose some pig-headed Nords think they don’t need reasoning, but let me tell you!  You do!” 

Saadia and Vilkas’s eyes met and they silently laughed as Arcadia continued sorting through her drawers for herbs, her back to them.  Arcadia was an excellent healer; but she was a worrier, thinking that everyone had some sort of terrible disease.  She was very endearing; the whole city adored her. 

Arcadia turned to see them smiling at her affectionately.

“Saadia!”  She said, coming out from behind the counter to give her a hug, “Always good to see you.  How’s that little girl of yours?”

“Lucia is doing great.”  Saadia reported. 

“Oh she’s a sweet little thing, that girl.”  Arcadia sighed, “Makes me wish I’d had my own.” 

“I got some giant’s toes for you.”  Saadia said, taking the smelly, bloody package from her satchel.

“Oh thank you!”  Arcadia said opening up the package, “Oh they smell strong and fresh!” 

“I think I’m finally all done for all the alchemy ingredients I owe you?”  She asked and Arcadia nodded.

“Yes this more than does it.”

“Well I’ll keep bringing you anything interesting I find, anyway.”

“Oh I’m so glad to hear that.”  She said, “Now will you tell your friend that he must do something about his Brain Rot!”  She said.

“Vilkas,” Saadia said with a barely contained grin, “You must do something about your rotting brain.”  She said with mirth.  He met her eyes, both of them enjoying the moment.

“You see!”  Arcadia told him, “Now take this potion.”  She told him and he sighed.

“Alright.”  He always ended up taking her potions; they did no harm, and had he actually had an infection, it would be cured.  But he knew he had no infection; Beastblood rendered him immune to all infections.  “But can I also get those herbs from you?”  He asked. 

“Of course dear.”  She answered. 

Saadia waited for Vilkas to finish his purchases and then they left together.

“What herbs did you get?”  She asked as they strolled to Jorrvaskr.

“Just some herbs that most alchemists think are not too powerful, but actually help to control the Wolf.”  He said, “During your... cycle… they’ll be very helpful.”  He said.

“Ah!”  She said.

“I don’t want you to be worrying that I might wolf out on you… worrying that I’m thinking about biting the back of your neck instead of listening to you.”  He said holding up the paper bag Arcadia had given him.

“I don’t worry about that.”  She said as she laced her arm through his.  “I don’t care if you get a bit wolfy with me every now and then.  Don’t feel like you have to-”

“No I want to.  I want you to be comfortable around me.”

“I am.”  She said.  “I know who you are Vilkas, I can handle it.”  She told him and saw that her words meant a lot to him. 

“Well maybe I’ll just take them if I need them.  If I’m finding it hard.  Instead of taking them as a precaution before anything has even happened.”  He proposed.

“Sounds like a good compromise.”  She said, “Just don’t feel like you have to take them for me.”  She reiterated.

“Understood.” 

“So I just got back from the Northwatch Keep.”  She said.

“Ah.  And how was that?”

“Well there’s at least 100 Thalmor garrisoned there.”  She reported.

“How did you find that out?”  He asked, impressed.

“I am very, very good at what I do.”  She answered.

“Of that, there can be no doubt.”  He answered with slightly suggestive smile. 

“So I don’t know if I can take the place alone.  They are well organised and equipped.”  She said, “But I promised the Grey-Manes I’d release Thorald… somehow…”  She sighed. 

“Well perhaps the 5 of us should go hunting together again.”  He said with a warrior’s grin; his love of battle showing.

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

“I was hoping you’d agree to it.  I look forward to taking down those Thalmor.” 

“We need to devise a plan, and I need to know more about the Magicks they wield.”

“I’ll look into it.”  He answered readily. 

“I will go and report to the Grey-Manes.”  Saadia said reluctantly.

“Talk to Eorlund.”  Vilkas advised, “He already adores you for who you are, and thinks you’re incredible for even considering to take on the Thalmor for his family.  He’ll take this delay better than the others.”  

“Good advice.”  She thanked him.  “Is it strange being so close to someone who so staunchly supports the Stormcloaks?”  She asked him; it was well known that the whole Grey-Mane family were Stormcloak supporters, it was why Thorald had been taken by the Thalmor.  The Companions were very deliberately a-political, but on a personal level, Vilkas supported the Empire. 

“No.”  He answered, “Because I agree with much of what they say.  I just don’t agree with how they’re going about freeing Skyrim.  Attacking the Empire is a mistake; they need to be focusing their energy on the real enemies.”

“The Thalmor.” 

“Yes, and Eorlund knows that, he respects my standpoint on the issue.”  Vilkas said, “And he abhors the racist rhetoric that’s creeping into the Stormcloaks as much as I do.” 

“It seems like you all have more in common than you’re willing to admit.”  She said.

“Kin should not be fighting kin like this.  To see Nords slaughtering Nords…” He shook his head.  “It’s no surprise that this is what heralded in the coming of Alduin.  It’s a grave sin for sibling to kill sibling.  And we are all Skyrim’s sons and daughters.” 

“I don’t know what to do to end the Civil War.”  She said sadly.

“I have much belief in you Dovahkiin, but I’m not sure that this is your battle.  The fools who are fighting it are the ones that need to re-aim their weapons at the right target.” 

“Perhaps you are right.”  She said.

“Now it is you, whose ‘perhaps’ sounds like a ‘not likely.’.”  He laughed. 

They went into Jorrvaskr, laughing, talking about the new jobs on offer and sat down to eat together, beginning to plan an attack on a Thalmor stronghold in Skyrim, both of them admitting that they’d be starting something big by doing this. 

 

***

 

Aela had been spoiling for a good run, so Saadia decided to take her to Ivarstead with her.  She had seen some farms around the area that she hadn’t had chance to look into the past few times she’d been there, and she wanted to see if anyone needed some help.

She knew she still had get the next Word of Power as well, so she decided not to bother visiting the Greybeards just yet, which Aela would have found dull.  Saadia wondered if the Greybeards would let her bring a guest; Vilkas would love to visit with them.  She decided she’d ask them next time. 

Saadia knew she was putting off getting the next Word of Power – they were often so well guarded she felt the need to just rest between each quest to get one.  She supposed that was the plan of the Greybeards all along – to slow down her progress.  So she could ‘grow’ before becoming too powerful. 

But those thoughts were easy to forget when she got out and ran hard; Aela never ran slowly and she was a sleek, lithe and very fast runner. 

As they got closer to Ivarstead, they saw a Riften Guard shooting an arrow at an Imperial courier.  But the courier was too quick and the Rift guard was frustrated.

“I forgot that Ivarstead is in Riften Hold.”  Saadia said softly.  “I guess because the Throat of the World is in Whiterun Hold, I just forget…”  Ivarstead was right in the foothills of the mountain. 

“And the Rift is Stormcloak territory.”  Aela said.

“How do couriers run that fast for so long…?”  She asked, thinking of every courier she’d ever seen. 

“Well there used to mages in Cyrodiil that enchanted them.”  Aela said, “Elven mages.”  She said, “I don’t know if they’re there anymore.  But the courier service has always been an independent entity, like the Companions.  And Jarls and armies would hire them from the courier service for a year.  Then they’d get the next year off work, then the next on…”  Aela continued, “It’s a tough job; they spend a whole year running and never sleeping.  Then they get a year to rest.  The Magicks used on them make them immortal and very fast and lessens their need for sleep and food and they hardly feel any pain.”  Aela said, “But they’re only immortal for 50 years.  They work for 25 of those years, then when the 50th year comes, they resume aging.”

“Wow…”

“Yeah, my brother is a courier.  He’s says he might do another 50 years when his first one runs out.  They earn enough money to support them once they retire after their first 50 years… but they kind of love it.”  She said, “He runs all over Tamriel.” 

“I’ve only seen Nord couriers in Skyrim?”

“Oh yes, they tend to let you stay in your home nation.  But he likes to go everywhere.  Anyway, each Jarl has a bunch of couriers for the people in their Hold to use free of charge.  You simply have to call for one and they appear… part of the enchantments.”

“Really?”  Saadia asked with a mischievous grin. 

“But it’s illegal to call for one if you don’t need them.”  Aela caught the look in Saadia’s eyes, “The closest one will run to you when you need them.  And they also have the ability to know where people are; another magical thing.” 

“So you can never truly disappear in Tamriel?”

“No, but the Courier Service will never reveal where anyone is.”  Aela said, “During the Great War, some Thalmor tried to intimidate them into telling them where key leaders were; tortured them, tried killing them… They said nothing.  They are unable to reveal people’s whereabouts to other people.” 

“Magic.”  Saadia marvelled. 

“I suppose it has its uses.”  Aela said begrudgingly. 

They saw a bright glow in the distance, and Saadia wondered how bright it would have been had it been night time. 

“I wonder what that is?”  Aela said, but as they kept running, a humming noise resonated in the air, “Nirnroot.” 

They came upon a farm with 2 Dunmer women tending the crops.  One of them was working hard, the other trying to look like she was working hard.  

And then they started to argue.

Loudly.

“Aduri!”  They heard one of the women call out angrily.  “How come the fields haven’t been tilled like I asked?”

“Because it’s boring!”  Aduri answered petulantly, “The fields are doing fine!  You don’t have to dote over them so much!” 

“Boring?  That food is paying for everything!  If lose a single crop, we could starve or be forced to beg!  I won’t have it!”

“Alright!  I understand – I’ll do it tomorrow.  Just get off my back.”

Aela looked at Saadia.

“Are we really checking in on these people?”  She asked.

“Unlike the Companions, I don’t wait for people to hire me.  I go and see if I can help them.”  Saadia sighed.  “I think it’s part of the Dragon Blood deal… I make foolish decisions like that.” 

Aela gave her a small smile.

“Well, I hope you don’t do it for free, sister.”

“I do.”  Saadia sighed and Aela shook her head.  “But thankfully most people decide to give me something.”

“Usually not coin, though?”  Aela asked astutely.

“I got given some knitted blankets last week.”  Saadia answered.  “For a baby crib.” 

“Useful.”  Aela said with a straight face.  Saadia laughed; they weren’t useful at all.  “Did you sell them?”

“No they’re in a chest at Lakeview Manor, I keep meaning to take them to Lucan for a few coins.”  Saadia said.

“At least the manor should make you some coin.”

“Camilla thinks the first season we’ll break even, and the second season we’ll make a small profit.”  Saadia says, “Which makes a few tight years for me; still pumping all the gold I earn into the place.”

“It’s still not fully furnished?”  Aela asked.

“Not yet.”  Saadia said, “But it’s got most of the necessities, so it’s alright.” 

As they got to the entrance of the field, they heard the women talking again.  Saadia could see that they were an older and younger woman; probably sisters, a few years apart in age. 

“Avrusa…” The younger girl hesitated, “Have you decided if I can head up to Solitude yet?”  She asked anxiously, “I hear it’s the best place to meet someone who might be willing to teach me to paint…”

“I’m sorry Aduri, not this year.”   Avrusa, the older woman, answered.  Aduri’s face fell.  “Perhaps next year after the harvest, I don’t know.  There’s so much to do.”

“It’s not going to be next year, nor the year after that!  You just care about this farm more than you care about me!”  Aduri answered emotionally. 

“Painting won’t put food on the table, but our crops will!  Be patient Aduri; it will happen someday, I promise.” 

Aduri was about to retort when she saw Saadia and Aela walking up to them, both looking like they’d rather not hear any more arguments. 

“Greetings travellers.”  Avrusa said, Aduri staring at them curiously.  “Welcome to Sarethi Farm!” 

“Hi!”  Saadia started to speak.

“There’s a lot of Nirnroot around here…”  Aela said, staring at the glow coming from a field over to the right. 

“Actually, I'm growing it if you hadn't noticed.”  Avrusa answered, guiding them over to look at the field of humming, glowing plants.  “I'm the only person alive that can cultivate Nirnroot from a seed to a fully-grown plant.”  She said proudly.  Aduri rolled her eyes and looked away over the mountains, sighing wistfully. 

“And how did you manage this feat?”  Saadia asked, curious; she’d heard Arcadia say that Nirnroot was a rare plant that alchemists were often unable to master.  Aduri wondered back to the field of potatoes and picked up her harvesting tools.  Aela saw her sigh deeply before getting back to work. 

“Oh, I had quite the mentor.”  Avrusa told them, “He taught me everything he knew about the Nirnroot and its strange properties.  I haven't seen him in many years.”  She said sadly, “I wonder what became of him...”

“So you’re an alchemist?  Saadia asked.

“I used to be.  There isn't much time for that in my life anymore, I'm afraid.”  More sadness from Avrusa, “I actually owned a shop in Vivec City long ago.”  She lowered her eyes, “But I had to leave all that behind when the Red Mountain erupted.  Perhaps someday I'll reopen a shop here in Skyrim.”

“I hope so.”  Saadia answered and Aela sat on the fence, crossing her arms over her chest, staring off.  Bored.  Aela didn’t do small talk. 

“You look exhausted.”  Aela said in a flat tone, trying to be helpful to Saadia, but still looking bored. 

“Is it that obvious?”  Avrusa sighed deeply, “I've got my hands full here.  Between the farm chores, cultivating my supply of Nirnroot and keeping a tight rein on my sister Aduri, there's little time for rest.”

“We could help you with the harvesting.”  Saadia offered.

“I don’t do farm work.”  Aela said flatly, “I’m a warrior.” 

“I could help you with the harvesting.”  Saadia corrected.  Aela pursed her lips and tried not to roll her eyes. 

Her offer was gladly accepted and Saadia set about to pulling potatoes While Aela sat on the fence watching. 

“How long have you been in Skyrim?”  Saadia asked.

“All our lives.”  Avrusa answered, “After the eruption of Red Mountain, our parents came here and bought this farm.”  She said as she put the potatoes Saadia pulled onto a cart.  “How long have you been here?”

“A few months.”  Saadia answered, “I think I’ll be here for a few more; got some things to do.”

“Well the thing you’ll learn about Skyrim is that everything happens either far too fast or far too slow.  There is no in between.”  Avrusa commented.  “Will you settle down here?”

“Probably.”  Saadia admitted.  “I had thought to go to Hammerfell, and part of me still wants to see it… but I am needed here.”

Aduri came over to work the field with them and started to ask questions about Saadia’s adventures; that got Aela talking about the Companions and their various battles. 

After an hour or so they had finished up the field and Avrusa looked quite pleased. 

“You work hard and fast my friend.”  She said to Saadia.

“She’s been told that before.”  Aela said cocking a suggestive eyebrow at Saadia. 

“Thank you.”  Saadia said to Avrusa, ignoring Aela.  “Is there anything else I can do to help you?”

“Really?  You are such a pleasant change.”  Avrusa said and Aduri rolled her eyes, understanding that her older sister’s words had been a jab at her.  Aduri walked off again, this time to get a drink, grumbling under her breath about her older sister.  “One of the ingredients I need to cultivate Nirnroot are Jazbay grapes... the acidic content of the juice is perfect for the soil.”  She explained, “I need twenty of them for my current crop.”

“I’ll see if I can find them.”  Saadia answered.

“They’re not easy to find.”  Avrusa said, “I’ll appreciate it if you can bring me any at all.” 

“Does your sister cause you problems?”  Aela asked. 

Avrusa sighed deeply.

“Aduri is what some would call a free spirit.”  She said, “but around here there is a tremendous amount of work to be done, not to mention dangers that she is not ready to face.”

“You let me know if you need any help with her.”  Saadia told her.

“Thank you friend.”

“Good luck with getting everything in order around here.”  Aela added.

“I don't need luck, I need rest.”  Avrusa answered.

They left the farm and walked up the road, heading towards Ivarstead.  Saadia was looking forward to see Lynly and Fastred. 

“They could have at least given you a drink.”  Aela grumbled, “All that work you did…”

“I think they were too poor to give me anything.”  Saadia said, “Did you see their clothes.”

“Barely holding on by a thread.”  Aela nodded. 

“I’m just glad I could help them out.”  Saadia said.

“Shall we go cross country for a little bit, so I don’t get drowned by your good intentions?”  Aela asked and Saadia laughed at her. 

They ran across the mountainous foothills, the trees and tall grass swaying in the cool breeze.

They came across an old watchtower, set off the main road. 

“Halt!”  A guard said and looked them over, “Proceed.”  He said and they continued on, seeing a campsite in the shadow of the tower; several guards cooking food. 

“These people aren’t guards of the Rift.”  Aela said almost silently to Saadia.  Saadia looked around the group of people; they were all wearing the guards’ uniforms… She gave Aela quizzical look.  “There’s a Khajiit guard.”

“So?”

“Since when do the city guard hire Khajiits?”  Aela asked pointedly, “When they won’t even let them enter the cities?” 

Saadia took in what she was saying and looked around the group of people again; all of them ignoring the 2 women walking through their campsite. 

She could see other signs that Aela was right too; the fact that they had hunted their own food… the city provided food for guards, the mish-mash of weapons… 

“They’re setting up some sort of trap up here…”  Saadia said and Aela nodded.

“They think they’ve got us fooled that they’re guards, so they’re ignoring us.”  Aela noted. 

“Well let’s disabuse them of this notion.”  Saadia said with a battle-loving grin. 

Aela drew her dual swords, a huge grin on her face and brought them together around the neck of the nearest man.  Saadia had her hammer out and brought it swinging around to make brutal contact with the cheek of the Khajiit ‘guard’ killing him instantly.

Two were dead before the rest had even realised what had happened.

“Too easy a battle.”  Aela said once everyone was dead. 

“Sometimes easy battles are good.”  Saadia said, “Though this one was disappointingly easy.”  She said as she opened up a nearby chest to find mostly food supplies.  “There’s not even decent loot.”

“They’d obviously only just set up.”  Aela said. 

They searched the nearby tower and found a few sleeping ‘guards’ – making short work of them before climbing to the top of the tower. 

They looked out across the land.  Saadia took in the gorgeous landscape, the mountain overlooking Lake Geir, the tower they were in standing near its beautiful shores.  Saadia looked closely at the island in the lake, there was something there… perhaps?

“Look.”  Aela pointed out an overturned cart by the road, a man curled up on the floor, obviously in pain.  “I wonder if they attacked him and stole his goods?”  She asked, “We should help him.”

“Are you catching Dragon Blood disease?”  Saadia teased.

“Foolish decision.”  Aela said shaking her head, “There will no coin or glory in helping him.”

“No.”  Saadia agreed.  “But there is a kind of honour in it.”

“Ah!”  Aela said with a grin, “Well honour matters the most!”  She turned to go back down the stairs, “Let’s go help him.” 

They approached the man and he scooted away from them, terror in his eyes.

“We’re not bandits.”  Aela reassured him. 

“Are they gone?”  He asked. 

“Bandits attacked you?”  Saadia asked and he nodded. 

“And ransacked my cart!”  He told them.

“My name is Saadia, friend.”  She said as she offered her his hand.

“Aela.”  Aela added as Saadia helped the man to his feet.

“I’m Talrav.”  He said, shaken, looking at them fearfully. 

“How can we help you?”  Saadia asked. 

“My camp is nearby in the ruins of Nilheim.”  He pointed back towards the tower and Saadia and Aela gave each other a look, “Get me there safely and you’ll be rewarded!”

Aela pursed her lips and Saadia gave him a big smile.

“Lead the way.”  Saadia said and he nodded, heading up the road to the old watchtower.

“He very spritely for a man who’s just been attacked.”  Saadia said under her breath.

“This is why you don’t help people.”  Aela returned.

“Some people aren’t trying to lure me into traps.”  Saadia said, “Some people are genuine…”

“How many?  Really?”  Aela asked as they followed the man.

“Not many.”  Saadia acknowledged. 

“So we’re actually going to let this guy get back to his camp?”  Aela asked.

“Sure, let him know fear before we kill him.”  Saadia said with a grin.

“Oh you act like you’re all goodness and light, but you’re dark!”  Aela said with an approving smile. 

Telrav suddenly ran forward towards the camp.

“Looks like we’ve got ourselves another fool!”  He declared, waiting for his bandits, disguised as guards, to jump up and attack the two women following him.  But then he looked around and saw all the blood.  “My men?”  He whispered and turned on them, “What did you do?  You'll die for this!"

He grabbed a sword from one of his dead bandit friends and ran at them with his sword held high.  Aela dodged his sword and sliced him across the belly, he took a few staggering steps forward, his hands going to his stomach.  But he had no time to realise how bad his wound was; Saadia brought her hammer crashing down on his head, and he was dead. 

“I hope he has some coin on him.”  Aela said and Saadia searched his pocket.

“Plenty.”  She said with a grin, tossing one of the two coin purses he was carrying to Aela.

“Good.”  Aela said weighing it in her hand.  “There’s a couple of hundred in this.”  She said with a satisfied nod of the head. 

They headed back down to the road, laughing at the look on Telrav’s face when he’d realised his plan had been foiled. 

But almost immediately a woman with a child in her arms came running down the road.

“TROLL!”  She screamed as she ran past them.  Saadia turned to see her continue to run along the road.

“I wonder if she intends to run all the way to Riften.”  Aela said as she too watched the woman. 

“At least there’s a troll to kill!”  Saadia answered.

“Shall we try to make it hard by only using bows?”  Aela asked.

“Oh I do like a challenge.”  Saadia answered as they continue down the road.

The troll was ripping at a tree by the side of the road; marking its territory.

They both pulled out their bows.

Aela started by putting a bow in the troll’s arse.  It roared and turned on them, its claws held up. 

Saadia saw behind the troll; three dead villagers, one of them a child. 

Saadia took aim for its arm.

“Breathe sister.”  Aela advised, “More than any weapon, a bow requires focus.” 

Saadia stilled her mind and took aim.  She wasn’t as quick or precise as Aela, but her aim had definitely improved a lot under Aela’s tutelage, as had her ability to get the arrow good and deep in her target.  The troll lunged at her and she ducked out of its way with ease, Aela sinking an arrow in its back, making it roar again, this time lashing out at her.  She stepped back, avoiding its claws and Saadia took aim at its neck. 

Between the two of them they killed it in this way, finishing it off just as the guards arrived to take on the troll. 

The guards thanked them and Saadia directed them to the dead bodies and the woman who had run off with her child while Aela stabbed her dagger into the troll’s stomach.

“What are you doing?”  Saadia asked, her nosed scrunched up.

“Arcadia pays a small fortune for troll fat.”  She answered, “I even carry a container around for it just in case!”  She said with a grin. 

“Sometimes alchemy is so disgusting.”  Saadia said shaking her head.

“I know!”  Aela agreed. 

After Aela had gotten all the troll fat off the stomach she could, they headed in to Ivarstead. 

Saadia kept an eye out for Fastred and Lynly.

Fastred was at the barrow, cleaning the wall with a scrubbing brush, several of the townsfolk helping. 

“How goes the clean up?”  Saadia asked. 

“We’ve had a couple of injuries, no deaths thankfully.  It’s slow progress, but we’re getting there.”  She reported, “Nothing has come back to life.  But the first thing we did was put a solid lid on that water pit.”  Fastred said, nodding slowly, “I was glad to see that go down!”

“I bet.”  Saadia agreed.  “I recently had some fun with draugr underwater.”  She shook her head to indicate that it, in fact, had not been fun at all. 

“Still having all sorts of adventures?”  She asked with a grin, “I don’t know whether to envy you or not!”  She said and sighed.  “Either way, my focus now is on getting this barrow back to an honourable condition.” 

They left Fastred to her work and stopped in at the inn to say hello to Lynly, who was very happy to see Saadia. 

“I think I’ve done everything I wanted to do here…”  Saadia said as they left the inn, but Aela was looking up the road to a burned-out house across the river. 

When Saadia had last been here, the house had been whole, a small farm growing beautifully.  But now it was overgrown, a man in rags standing in the middle of it, staring up the street at them, rocking back and forth. 

“I think we should look into that…”  Aela said slowly.

“Agreed.”  Saadia said, watching the man rock back and forth.

“REYDA!”  They heard him cry out mournfully.  “REYDA!  YOU LIVE AMONG THE CLOUDS NOW, DEAR REYDA!”

“Yeah, we definitely need to check that out.”  Saadia said and they headed down the road to the river’s edge. 

“I miss Reyda.”  They heard him whimpering to himself, “She was so nice to Narfi.” 

There was no way across the river at this point other than to simply swim it.  They both looked upstream at the bridge and then back to the crying man.

“I’m game.”  Aela said as she plunged into the fast-moving river. 

They swam across the river, working hard against the current and the chill.  When they got to the other side Saadia sighed.

“Wish we’d taken the bridge.”  She grumbled.  But Aela was approaching the man.

“Narfi's sad he can't be with Reyda.”  He held his hands up to his chest as if holding a cuddly toy, his head dropping to the side, trying to comfort himself by hugging the imaginary toy. 

“Narfi, is that your name?”  Aela asked, almost managing to use a kind tone of voice. 

“I can't see you, Reyda!”  He wept, “I can't find you!  Why are you hiding?”  He grew very agitated and Aela held her hands up to try and calm him, “Hiding, hide, hide, hide!  Don't make me sad!”

“Are you okay?”  Saadia asked gently. 

“Reyda was here, then gone.”  He said, looking down at the ground, his whole body tense.  “Went to gather plants and never came home... nope, nope.”  He shook his head vigorously, “Everyone looked and no one could find her.  Wilhelm said she'll be back... told Narfi not to worry... Reyda will come back.”

“What is wrong with him?”  Aela asked Saadia under her breath, but Narfi heard.

“With father I said goodbye... with mother I said goodbye.  Reyda leaves and Narfi can't say goodbye.”  He said in explanation.  “Makes Narfi very, very sad.  Narfi needs Reyda to say goodbye.”

“Alright, we’ll try to find Reyda.”  Aela said, trying to soothe him. 

“If you see Reyda, tell her that Narfi misses her and to come home soon... very soon.  Soon... soon, like the moon!”  He said grabbing Aela’s arm. 

“Alright.”  She said, “We will.” 

“Farewell.”  Saadia said to him, but he had turned and was staring up at the mountain. 

They headed back to the water’s edge.

“The mountain will eat you!”  Narfi suddenly hissed, “Watch the mountain!”

“We will.”  Saadia answered before they plunged back into the water, Saadia feeling creeped out by his last warning.

He was screaming Reyda’s name again by the time they got back to the inn, both of them deciding to ask Wilhelm, the proprietor, what he knew about Narfi and Reyda. 

“Two ales.”  Aela said as they sat at the bar.  Wilhelm nodded and started pouring the drinks.  “Oh, and, what’s the deal with Narfi?”

“He's harmless.”  Wilhelm answered, but when he looked back up he saw that both women were still staring at him, expecting more of an explanation.  “He's been in a state ever since his sister Reyda disappeared a couple of weeks ago.  He just keeps to himself in what's left of his folk's farmhouse across the river.”  He handed them their drinks and Aela put some coin on the bar.

“You told him she’d be coming back.”  Aela said coldly.  Both woman wondering why no one had done anything to help him. 

“I just said that to make the poor guy feel better.”  He confessed, “I'm pretty sure she's dead.”  He at least seemed upset by that, “Reyda would gather ingredients from the small island in the river east of here.  Then one day, she just vanished.  I tried to look for her, but she never turned up.” 

Saadia and Aela looked at each other, still wet from the river.

“Guess we’re going for another swim.”  Saadia said and Aela nodded, downing her drink in one gulp, Saadia following suit. 

They headed out to bridge near where Wilhelm had indicated and scrambled down the steep bank to the water, looking for any signs of her at all, Aela staying on the bank searching, while Saadia plunged into the water. 

It didn’t take long.

“I found her.”  Saadia said as soon as her head broke the surface of the water.

“Oh no…”  Aela had known she would be dead; but it was still sad to know for sure.  “How did she die?”

“Looks like a slaughter fish attack.”  Saadia said, “I’m just gonna search the body.”  She took a deep breath and plunged under the water.

A few moments later Saadia was climbing out of the water, a beautiful silver necklace in her hand.

“That’ll be worth a lot of coin.”  Aela said as Saadia gave it to her.  “We should give it to Narfi.” 

“My thoughts exactly.”  Saadia said.  “And we should tell him the truth.”

“So he can try to move on.”  Aela agreed. 

“I’ll do the bad news; you do the good news.”  Saadia said pointing at the necklace. 

“Are you sure?”  Aela asked thankfully.

“Yeah.  He seems to like you; let’s keep it that way.” 

When they approached Narfi again he was sitting in the dirt, eating a raw potato he’d pulled up from the ground.  Aela took the potato from him gently and gave him some cooked potatoes she had stored in her satchel.  He grinned happily at her and they sat silently with him while he ate.

When he’d finished Aela handed him the necklace silently. 

“Reyda!”  He knew the necklace instantly, “You saw Reyda?”  He asked happily, “Did you tell her Narfi cries?  Did you tell her Narfi never said goodbye like mother and father?”

Aela turned her eyes to Saadia. 

“Narfi.”  Saadia said gently, “Your sister has gone to Sovngarde.”  She said, but he looked at her like that made no sense.  “She’s dead.”  Saadia explained softly. 

“Oh no!”  Narfi cried, “No, no, no.”  He grabbed hold of Aela, weeping.  And uncharacteristically, Aela allowed him to touch her.  She wrapped her arms around him, comforting him, “Narfi never got to say goodbye!  Now Narfi's all alone.”

“No, you’re not alone.”  Aela soothed him gently. 

“At least Narfi has Reyda's Necklace...”  He whispered, clutching the necklace tightly as he wept in Aela’s arms, “reminds Narfi of his sister.  Thank you for giving this to Narfi.”  He said to Aela, “Thank you.”  He held her tightly. 

“No problems.”  Aela said gently. 

“Narfi's sad now.”

“I know, but it will get better.”  Aela said, “You must steady your heart.”

“Still wait for Reyda.  No more sleep.  No, no... no.”  He said and got up, walking towards the burned-out house, looking utterly desolate. 

“By Oblivion.”  Aela said shaking her head, “How do you do this every day?”  She asked, her eyes not leaving Narfi as he went into the wrecked cottage. 

“Do what?”  Saadia asked.

“Care.”  Aela said.  Saadia didn’t know how to answer that.  Aela looked away from Narfi and got up, “Well it’s done now.”  She tried to sound indifferent, and failed. 

“It’s getting late, and I’m covered in corpse water, so I’d like a bath.”  Saadia said, “Keen to spend the night in the inn.”

“Sounds good sister.”  Aela said, sounding more like herself. 

But as they headed back to the river Aela turned back to look at the broken down house one last time. 

They booked a shared room and laughed at the curtain divider down the centre of the room, the two narrow beds on either wall, as far away from each other as possible.  The room was truly too small to be divided in this manner and Saadia shook her head at the attempt. 

“I think they expect us to be uncomfortable in a shared room.”  Aela noted, “I have my own room now, but I was a whelp in those quarters once too!”  She said as she pulled the curtain back to open up the room, and stripped off her armour. 

Saadia opened the door and ordered some bath water and then stripped her armour off too.  Both women waited for the bath water before taking off their tunics, bathing as they spoke.

“I haven’t been out to Ivarstead in a long time.”  Aela said, “it’s a bit of a dull place.”

“I don’t mind visiting dull places.”  Saadia said.  “Sometimes it’s a nice break.”

“Living here would be awful.  I know that a lot of the locals are moving to Riften for work.”  Aela said.  Riften was the capital city of the Rift Hold. 

“It’s sad but not surprising.”  Saadia said.

“The Jarl doesn’t do much to get work out to the towns.  The whole of Skyrim will eventually be cities.”  Aela shrugged, “Leaving the wilds for us wolves.” 

“I’m not a wolf.”  Saadia said, amused that Aela had forgotten.

“You are in spirit.”  Aela said simply.  “The wilds call to you too.  Don’t they?”

“They do.”  Saadia admitted. 

“May I speak frankly Saadia?”  Aela stopped washing herself and looked at her.

“I didn’t know you knew how to speak any other way.”  Saadia answered.  Aela nodded in response. 

“Why have you not sought to have our Beastblood?”  She asked.  “It seems like you are… curious?”

“I am.”  Saadia answered.

“Has the old man’s teachings gotten to you?”  She asked.  Kodlak was against them hunting in Beastform and wanted to find a cure for what he thought of a curse. 

“To some extent.”  Saadia admitted. 

“It’s more the brothers, isn’t it?”  Aela asked astutely.  Saadia nodded.

“Some of the things they say have given me pause.”  Saadia admitted. 

“I love those boys,” Aela said, “Respect them too.  Especially Vilkas.  But they’re both fools.”  She shook her head, “And the old man is usually wise, but he’s caught up in the romanticism of Sovngarde.”  She said, “There is nothing wrong with having Beastblood.” 

“I guess the problem is that the only person willing to talk to me about it is Vilkas.”  Saadia said pointedly.  Aela continued to bathe and nodded grimly.

“We’ve been insular for too long; you have taught us that.”  Aela admitted, “It’s hard for us to talk about it to people who aren’t as we are.” 

“Is it just because I could never understand?”

“Somewhat.”  Aela said, “I could never understand Dragon Blood, but you still talk about it if I ask.”  She grabbed a towel, “It’s hard to trust…”

“With the Silver-Hand and the Vigilant of Stendarr around I’m not surprised.”  Saadia said, “And when one of you did trust someone, it got 2 of you killed.”  She was thinking of Caiche. 

“That was hard.”  Aela agreed, “I keep thinking I should have known what she was.”  Aela said sadly. 

“Vilkas said the same thing.”

“Bah!”  Aela scoffed, “What would he know?  He’s a man.”  She looked Saadia in the eye, “Nurie was the only other woman in the Circle… until you.  Us woman have always had to stick together, even if it is getting better for us in Skyrim… Men don’t know anything about what it is to be a woman.  I should have seen her – I should have known her.”  Aela said, harshly judging herself.  “I lost one of my best friends; my Shield-sister, my pack-mate…”  Aela spoke more emotionally than Saadia had ever heard her speak, “I should have known what Caiche was.  I should have found a way to protect Nurie.  That’s what we do, we protect each other in the Circle… but especially us women.” 

“I think you’re too hard on yourself; Caiche’s treachery is on her, not you.”  Saadia answered.

“I think you would understand if you were properly one of us.”  Aela said, “With our senses as strong as they are… I should have known.” 

“Explain it to me so I understand.”  Saadia said, wrapping a towel around herself and sitting on the bed.  Aela sat next to her. 

“It’s so hard to put it in to words.”  Aela said.  “the power running through your veins is…”  She shook her head, unable to think of a word.

“Seductive.”  Saadia said, thinking of what Vilkas had said. 

“I suppose… but…” Her eyes went distant as she thought of how to explain it.  “The wind through your hair, the sounds of the night, the smells of the earth, your heart pounding in your chest, your feet pounding the earth, wild laughter in your throat, the light in your eyes, the sight of prey ahead, the taste of battle in the air.”  She took a deep breath but Saadia felt like she couldn’t breathe; Aela’s description sounded so exciting.  “It’s not seductive.  It’s exhilarating.”  She said.  “It’s life!”

“But what about the call of the Beastblood, the hunt – the need to mate?”  Saadia asked, Vilkas’s struggles weighing on her mind, “Isn’t that a heavy burden?”

“The hunt is freedom, not a burden.”  Aela answered, “I hear Vilkas in your words.”  She said, “He used to think the hunt was freedom too.”  She said, “He sought the power of the Beastblood more than any of us, and he always felt the call of the wild, the need to mate and the thrill of the hunt more than any of us… it is hard what Kodlak asks of him… of all of us.”  Aela said.  “To deny what we are, to deny the joy of our wolf half…” She shook her head, “There’s no words for what a travesty that is.”  She declared.  “The Gods are more complex than simply good or evil sister; I know this to be true.  Hircine is not just some evil Daedra.  He has gifted us, not cursed us.”  She said simply.

“You and Skjor don’t abstain from turning like Kodlak and the brothers?”  Saadia already knew this poorly kept secret. 

“No.”  Aela answered, “We don’t.  But the others do frown upon that.”  She said. 

“And do you ever worry about going feral or…?”

“No.  That danger is strongest when you first turn.”  She said, “The Beastblood is powerful, and if the Human blood isn’t powerful enough to balance it, you lose yourself.” 

“But when Vilkas growled at me… it was involuntary.  The wolf had more control of him then.”  Saadia said.

“You do know that there were 2 different types of growl he did, right?”  Aela said.

“No, I didn’t…”  She said.

“The first was a battle growl; he was enjoying himself.  He can control those, but it feels good to do them in battle.”  She said, “The second growl…”  She paused, obviously not sure how much to say.

“A mating growl.  I know.”  Saadia said.

“Ah, well then…” Aela said, “Those are harder to control, I’ll admit.”  She said, “But not impossible; I don’t go growling every time Sk-”  But she stopped herself.  
“Every time Skjor’s around?”  Saadia asked and Aela sighed. 

“I’m tired of that rumour.”  She said bitterly. 

There was a silence and Aela took some nut oil out of her satchel and slowly worked it through her hair while Aela mulled over the rumours about her and Skjor. 

“What’s that?”  Aela asked, obviously still thinking about Skjor.

“It’s oil for my skin and hair.”  Saadia said, “It’s something Redguard women do to counter the dryness and heat of the Alik’r desert.”  She said, “My mum taught me how to do it.  You can’t put too much on, thought – it’ll ruin your hair.”  She said softly.  “It’s not dry or hot in Skyrim like it is in Hammerfell, so I don’t really need to do it… But every time I do it, it reminds me of my mum.”  She said working the oil through her hair.  “It wasn’t even dry on Stirk.  But it was something my mother clung to.  Kept her sane when… the whole place was…” She shook her head. 

“You miss her.”  Aela said.

“A lot.”  Saadia agreed and worked a small amount of oil into her face carefully.  “She was one of the bravest women I knew.  Always helping the new wives.  Never cried when he punished her… or when he came calling for her.”  Saadia said.  “She cried plenty when she thought no one was looking though.” 

“That’s when all warriors cry.”  Aela said. 

“Yes.”  Saadia agreed. 

“Well at least I know now why your skin is so beautiful.”  Aela lightened the mood. 

“Tell me about Skjor…?  Please?”  Saadia asked, offering a few drops of oil to Aela. 

Aela took the drops and gently worked them into her hands, marvelling at how much the oil nourished her skin. 

“What do you want to know?”  Aela asked. 

“What does it feel like to be in love?”  Saadia asked.

“It is the most painful thing I have ever experienced.”  Aela said simply.  “And also the most pleasurable.”

“Because Skjor won’t let it happen.”  Saadia said and Aela shrugged.

“That hurts.  But also… there’s so much vulnerability in allowing yourself to love another.”  She said, “I don’t do vulnerability.”  She said firmly, “At least not easily.”

“I understand that.”  Saadia agreed; she didn’t like to show her vulnerabilities either. 

“And… I had hoped to have my daughter join the Companions one day.  But Skjor has always been quite adamant that he would have no children.  Not even with me – the woman he said he loved.”

“So you were together?”  Aela nodded in reply, “What happened?”

“His damn pride is what happened.”  Aela said, “But you must never tell anyone this…”

“Understood.”  Saadia said.

“We were together for many years.  We kept it to ourselves; it’s just easier that way in the Companions.”  Saadia nodded and Aela continued, “2 years ago he sustained a back injury that took a whole week to heal… If it weren’t for his Beastblood he’d have never been able to walk again.”  Aela said, “But it slowed him down… he started to feel his age, I guess.”  She lowered her eyes sadly, “As soon as he could no longer keep up with me…”  She said bitterly.

“He ended it.”  Saadia finished. 

“Said I should get myself a young man that could give me what I want and deserve.”  Aela said, “But I only want him.”  Her voice cracked slightly.  “I’ve never really been interested in sex or love.  All men are lying scum, and while I admire women and will die defending them… I have never been all that interested in bedding them, although I have had a female lover in the past… it’s just… I rarely have any of those urges.  But with Skjor… he was…”  She shook her head, “He made parts of me come alive.  Parts of me I hadn’t even known I had.  And I can feel them withering and dying without him.” 

“I’m sure that parts of you aren’t dying.”  Saadia said, thinking that love sounded very dangerous when seen through the eyes of Aela. 

“Parts of me that existed only for him.”  Aela said, “They’re dying, and I don’t know if they’ll ever come back.  There’ll come a time when even if he does change his mind, I’ll not capable of feeling these things anymore.  It just hurts too much to keep trying and hoping when he’s given up.”  Aela said passionately, Saadia having no idea what to say to her; she’d never experienced love, she didn’t know.  “The most ridiculous thing about all of this is that he’s back to his normal prowess now, he was after a week, so why?”  Aela said, “Why does he persist.  He says he’s just realised that a young woman like me shouldn’t be held back by an old man like him… and I start to wonder if it was all just an excuse to be rid of me.”  She said.

“He’d be a fool to want to get rid of you.”  Saadia said, “And… from what I’ve seen, I think he misses you.”  Saadia thought of the few words she’d heard pass between Vilkas and Skjor.

“Is it that obvious… our situation I mean?”

“No.”  Saadia said honestly, “Unless you’re looking for it.” 

“It feels good to finally talk about this.”  Aela said, “Thank you for listening.”

“What are sisters for?”  Saadia said, “Us women have to stick together.” 

“Yes we do.”  Aela agreed.  “Saadia, allow me to turn you.”  Aela asked, “If you choose it, I mean.” 

“You know, Vilkas offered.”  Saadia said.  She was instantly sure she shouldn’t have said anything when she saw the look on Aela’s face.  “I think he got sick of me asking questions about it.”  Saadia added and Aela nodded, as if that made a little more sense.  “I don’t know that it was a real offer.”  Saadia lied.

“Yes, I think it probably wasn’t.”  Aela said slowly, her brows furrowed, “Given how much he lives by Kodlak’s teachings.”

“And he knew I was going to say no.  So it was never a real offer.”  Saadia concluded and Aela nodded again. 

“Well I would have you consider taking of my gift, instead of his curse.”  Aela said, “I would be honoured to initiate another sister.” 

“I won’t deny that I’m curious.”  Saadia said, “But I still haven’t made up my mind.”

“Well that’s something then.”  Aela said hopefully, “They haven’t completely poisoned you against it.”

“No they haven’t.”  Saadia said, “If they had convinced me it was evil… I wouldn’t be here.”  She said honestly, “I wouldn’t let my daughter be near any of you.  I simply do not believe it’s evil.” 

“Because it’s not and you’re no fool.”  Aela replied. 

“But I don’t know how it will interact with the Dragon Blood, and I don’t know if I want the call of the hunt, or the need to mate.”  Saadia said.

“Imagine being able to hear your opponent’s brain working.  Imagine smelling the fear of your foes.  Seeing the sweat on your enemy’s brow in the moonlight.  Being able to taste the blood of battle in the air… It is so much more than hunting and breeding.  Perhaps it has become that to Vilkas because he denies himself, so those urges grow stronger.”  Aela said, “But that’s not the totality of this gift.  I am strong enough to literally tear you limb from limb, I am fast enough to run down any creature in Skyrim.” 

“It does sound tempting when you talk about it.”  Saadia admitted. 

“I’ll admit that it is interesting to think of how it will interact with Dragon Blood… But I do not think it will be bad.”  Aela truly believed what she was saying, “Nothing bad has come from having the Beastblood for me, other than people wanting to kill me for no good reason.” 

“Oh well I already have that problem.”  Saadia said with a shrug and a cheeky grin. 

There was a knock on the door and Lynly entered to take the bath water away, she smiled at Saadia suggestively.

“There’s a Dark Elf asking for you.”  She said, but her eyes were saying that she was thinking about the night they’d shared together. 

“Send her in.”  Aela said, missing the look on Lynly’s face because she was looking down at the smooth skin on her own hands, still amazed at the effect Saadia’s nut oil had had. 

Aduri came in with a huge grin on her face.  Aela and Saadia shared a look before turning back to her.

“I snuck away!”  She sounded excited, “Avrusa is too busy going over the books to notice.”  She said. 

“What do you want?”  Aela asked.

“I wanted to hear all about your adventures.”  She said.

“Oh…”  Saadia said, surprised.

“What?”  Aduri asked.

“Well usually when people come into my room in the middle of the night it’s because they want sex.”  Saadia answered honestly.

“Oh that’s disgusting.”  Aduri said, her lip curling.  “Sex is so gross.”  She shook her head, “But tell me all about anywhere else but here?” 

Saadia and Aela shared another look. 

“What do you want to know kid?”  Aela asked. 

 

***

 

They next morning they took Aduri home

Avrusa was furious. 

But the mood was quickly changed when some guards came up the road, running, carrying a severely burned man between them.

“Dragon?”  Aela asked Saadia and Avrusa grabbed Aduri to her. 

Saadia watched the guards with narrowed eyes and headed across the field back to the road; there were 2 more guards running towards Ivarstead, one of them partially burned. 

“What happened?”  Saadia asked them.

“There were reports of strange activity in a cave nearby.”  He said, “witches.”

“Sounds like fun.”  Aela said as she joined them.

“They killed 4 of my men.”  The guard said, “Don’t go near Snapleg Cave.” 

They watched the guards run off and then shared a grin.

“We’re going to Snapleg Cave aren’t we?”  Aela asked.

“Of course we are!”  Saadia answered. 

“Can I come?”  Aduri asked loudly.

“Absolutely not!”  Avrusa said. 

“Why not?”

“Did you not just hear that 4 guards died in that cave?”

“But Saadia and Aela won’t let anything happen to me!”

“Saadia and Aela have better things to do than try and keep you alive!”

“Oh but they’re not too busy to work on your farm and find Jazbay grapes for you.”  Aduri answered sarcastically.

“Furthermore,” Avrusa ignored her younger sister’s comments, “they are Companions, and we all know how Companions feel about Elves!”

“Well that’s what happens when your kind slaughter our peaceful settlers for no reason.”  Aela answered lazily.

“It was thousands of years ago!  And you were encroaching on our land!”  Avrusa retorted.  “And it wasn’t even my kind - it was Snow Elves… And your kind certainly took care of them.”

“If you’ve never heard of Snow Elves,” Aduri said to Saadia, “It’s because they were wiped out.”

“By the Dwemer.”  Aela said firmly.

“As if Nords had nothing to do with it.”  Avrusa said, rolling her eyes.

“Alright, calm down.”  Saadia said.  “We have an Elf in our ranks.”  Saadia reminded Aela and she rolled her eyes.

“Truly?”  Avrusa asked, surprised. 

“Yeah, I was just messing with you because you made an assumption about us.”  Aela said with a shrug. 

“Well there was no need for that, you simply could have-” Avrusa began but Saadia held up her hands.

“Neither of you were very polite.”  She said firmly.  “Listen Avrusa, we can take Aduri for a short adventure in a cave.”  Aela rolled her eyes at Saadia’s words, “It might satisfy her curiosity for a while and give you some peace.  I took Fastred into the barrow and she survived that.”

“Yes, she’s spoken in some detail about how you saved her from draugr.”  Avrusa said, weighing the situation carefully.  “Alright.”  She gave in and Aduri jumped up and down with joy.  “But if something goes bad, you run right home, understood?”

“I can’t abandon my companions!”  Aduri said.

“Yes you can and you will.”  Saadia said firmly.  “If we’re injured you run home.  We will not take you with us unless you agree to that, and to do what we tell you, when we tell you.” 

“Alright.”  Aduri said seriously. 

“Alright then, let’s go.”  Saadia said but Avrusa grabbed her arm.

“Please bring my sister home alive.”

“I will, don’t worry.”  Saadia answered. 

They travelled up the road together.

“Snapleg Cave is this way.”  Aduri said, leaving the road. 

“I guess she was useful for something then.”  Aela said under her breath.

They approached the cave and saw numerous goat and skeever heads on spikes.

“Hagravens.”  Aela said softly.

“Ugh.”  Saadia sighed. 

But they went in the tunnel, Saadia leading, Aduri behind her, Aela bringing up the rear, her bow out, ready to tell the Elf to get down so she could take aim. 

The first tunnel opened up into a kind of sinkhole, a rocky ledge path leading down to the floor, the top open to the sky, sunlight streaming down, trees and plants growing in the light.  At the bottom was a small pool of rainwater and 3 wolves ripping apart an elk. 

“I always feel sad about killing wolves.”  Aela said, “such noble creatures.”  She took aim with her bow as Saadia leapt off the ledge, her warhammer held above her head. 

An arrow hit one wolf in the eye, killing it instantly at the same time Saadia landed, bringing her hammer down onto the head of the second wolf. 

But before either of them could deal with the third wolf and shot of lightning frazzled it, electrifying it to death.  It collapsed, smoke rising from its burned hair. 

They both turned to look at Aduri who was grinning at them.

“Every Elf has control of the Magicks.”  She said.  Saadia looked back at the wolf, impressed and curious. 

“Yes, because magic is for the physically weaker races.”  Aela snarked. 

“I may be physically weaker than you, but I can still hold my own!”  Aduri said staunchly. 

“Okay.”  Saadia said, not allowing either of them to continue the discussion. 

She waited for Aela and Aduri to climb down the rock ledges to the ground level before they continued up the next tunnel; which was infested with skeever.

“Ugh Hagravens.”  Aela complained, “Surround themselves with these vermin.” 

After they had killed them all, Aduri knelt down and cut all their tails off, Aela and Saadia looking at her with disgust.

“They’re good for alchemy.”  She said with a shrug.

“This is why I don’t mess with alchemy.”  Aela said and Saadia raised her eyebrows in agreement. 

Saadia looked further down the corridor and saw big chunks of wood, bright green streaks in them, hanging in nets from the ceiling. 

“They’re taproot.”  Aduri said, cutting them down and putting them in her alchemy satchel.  “Hagravens put them up to attract Spriggans.”  She explained, “Because these are the power of the Spriggan.  You can only kill a Spriggan by taking out its taproot, otherwise they simply regenerate.” 

“Why do Hagravens want Spriggans?”  Saadia asked very quietly as they continued down the corridor.

“For dark rituals.”  Aduri said, “Some say to spite Kynareth, who they especially hate; Spriggans are beloved of Kynareth.”

“You worship the Aedra?”  Saadia asked.

“No I worship the Reclamations, like most Dunmer.”  Aduri said, “But I, of course, am aware of the Aedra and their roles.” 

“The Reclamations?”

“Boethiah, Mephala, and Azura.”  Aduri said, “After the Tribunal fell, we realized that we had been wrong to worship them, and reclaimed our old faith.”  She explained.  “Putting it simply.”

“The Tribunal were Vivec, Sotha Sil… and…”  Saadia tried to remember.

“Almalexia.”  Aduri answered, “You know some of our history?”  Aduri asked, impressed.

“The fall of the Tribunal is part of prophecy of the last Dragonborn.”  Saadia said; her and Vilkas had had many long conversations about the prophecy now, pouring over every detail. 

“Is it?”  Aduri asked politely.  “I had no idea that Nord myths had anything to do with our history.” 

Aela and Saadia shared a momentary look that was broken up by an ice shard slamming into the wall beside Saadia’s head. 

“Witches.”  Saadia said as she ducked down, “And they heard us coming.”

“Of course they did.”  Aela answered, unimpressed. 

Aduri shot lightning at one while Aela shot an arrow at the other.  With both witches occupied, Saadia could practically stroll out into the chamber and slam her hammer into the first witch, killing her, without the other witch even noticing.  Another arrow from Aela downed the second witch; gurgling loudly, clawing at the arrow sticking out of her throat.  An electrical shot from Aduri finished her off. 

Aela searched the witches and then stripped their robes off.  Saadia cocked an eyebrow in query at her.

“100 gold for their robes, sister.”  She said with a grin.

“Nice.”  Saadia made a note for future reference; try not to tear up the robes while killing them; she needed the gold. 

There was a loud explosive sound, like an ice spike hitting rock and shattering, but there was no one in the room with them. 

The sound continued, strike after strike. 

Saadia pointed down the next corridor and Aela and Aduri nodded.  They all agreed that it was coming from the next room. 

Saadia motioned for them to get behind her and she edged down the corridor.

At the end of the corridor was a room with an ice spike trap; a pillar of stone with a floating soul gem above it, sending shards of ice at spiderlings in the room.  The three women kept well back, watching the trap rip through the spiderlings; even the adult frostbite spiders were ripped to shreds. 

When it was done with the spiderlings the gem rotated towards them.

“Oh no…”  Aduri whispered. 

“WULD!”  Saadia used just the one word of Whirlwind Sprint to move at incredible speed right up to the trap, removing the gem before it had even had a chance to shoot an ice spike at them. 

She turned to them, tossing the gem up and catching it, a huge grin on her face.

Aela was already looking to the next corridor, but Aduri was staring at her with wide open eyes and dropped jaw.

“How?”  She breathed.

“I’m that Nord myth.”  Saadia said as she walked back to them, handing the soul gem to Aduri.

“What?”  She asked, utterly perplexed.

“She’s Dragonborn.”  Aela asked, and somehow Aduri’s eyes opened even wider. 

“But that’s a myth…”  Aduri whispered.

“You know nothing of the glory and honour of the Dragonborns!”  Aela said, “They saved all of Tamriel by uniting us under the Empire.  Saadia will save all existence from Alduin the world-eater.” 

“By Oblivion…”  Aduri said breathlessly.

“Cut it out Aela.”  Saadia rolled her eyes; Aela had never shown the slightest bit of interest in any of the Dragonborn legends until now. 

“I’m just filling in our friend.”  Aela said innocently. 

“Let’s just keep going, shall we?”  Saadia asked a sweetly smiling Aela. 

“Of course, Dovahkiin.”  She said, her eyes glimmering with her absolute joy. 

They continued on for some time, the cave system growing progressively darker, the darkness punctuated by flaming torches set far apart on the walls. 

Aduri went to the wall and pulled one of the torches off.

“What are you doing?”  Aela hissed at her. 

“It’s dark…”  Aduri said, not sure what Aela didn’t understand.

“Yes and that lovely flickering fire you’re waving around in your hand there, will surely let everyone know where we are.”

“Oh.”  Aduri said softly. 

“Oh.”  Aela repeated sarcastically. 

“I’ll put it back.”

“Yes.”

Saadia shook her head but said nothing, instead focussing on the tunnel ahead; there was an increasing amount of spider webs, and that could only mean one thing.

A frostbite spider lair. 

There were several spiders, all of them staring at the tunnel. 

Saadia sighed.

“I have to get better at creeping along.”  She said as Aela put an arrow through the first spider’s face.

The battle was easy until not one, but two giant frostbite spiders appeared, attacking from both sides, and Aduri got hit with poison.  She fell to her knees, vomiting, leaving Aela and Saadia to defend her while fighting off the spiders. 

Once the spiders were dead, Saadia tossed a healing potion to Aduri, who was admirably starting to get to her feet, even as she heaved, determined to try and help.

“Thank y-”  She vomited half way through her word.  As soon as she finished vomiting she swallowed the potion.

“Much better.”  She panted

“Good.”  Saadia answered as she searched the room; it had obviously once been a bandit lair; the bodies, beds and chests were still littered all over the floor, under the years of cobwebs layered atop them. 

There was a lot of loot in the chests and Saadia shared it out evenly, making Aduri promise to give half of her share to her sister to help with the farm costs. 

“The room is a dead end.”  Aduri said, confused.

“No Hagravens then.”  Aela was equally as puzzled. 

But Saadia sighed and pointed out the chain on the wall, covered with spider webs. 

“Hidden door.”  She said, and pulled the chain.

The first thing they saw through the door was a tall, hideous Hagraven, even more repulsive than the last one Saadia had seen, her teeth yellow and black, her hair greasy and black, her fingers long and clawed.  She was looking straight at the secret door as it opened.

And instantly a huge gout of fire spurted from her hand as she cackled evilly. 

But Aduri threw up a warding spell and fire bent around it, leaving the 3 women untouched.

There was a huge tent city in this cavern.  And witches everywhere; suddenly jumping up, emerging from tents, looking up from half-finished rituals. 

Quite suddenly magic was flying through the air in all directions.  Ice spells, fire spells, electrical spells. 

Aela loosed an arrow at the Hagraven but the beast incinerated it as it flew through the air. 

“By Hircine!”  She swore and pulled out her two swords.  She ran into the fray, ducking and weaving through the spells, the love of battle making her laugh. 

“Stay down!”  Saadia ordered Aduri and the girl nodded, hiding behind a rock, only emerging occasionally to shoot electricity at the Hagraven. 

Saadia leapt across the room, several spells hitting her.  They were painful, they slowed her down and drained her life… but they did not stop her.  She was growing stronger, the itch of the Kynareth’s Kiss healing her came sooner.  She killed one witch, then another and was finally within striking distance of the Hagraven. 

Aela stabbed one witch through the heart, hacking at the neck of another, leaping over a fireball before bringing both swords down onto the next witch.

Saadia grabbed the Hagraven by the throat and lifted her up, slamming her into the ground, punching her in the face, the hag’s teeth smashing as she screamed in rage and pain.  Saadia planted her hands either side of the Hagraven’s head and brought her knee swinging upwards into her chin, before whipping out her dagger and slamming it into her eye. 

The Hagraven screeched, clawing at the dagger, but Saadia was on her feet, her warhammer in her hands. 

She slammed it down into the Hagraven’s chest, shattering ribs.  Saadia pulled her dagger out of the Hagraven’s face, drawing out her eye with it.  She looked at the eyeball caught on the end of her dagger while the Hagraven’s fingers probed the empty socket as she whimpered in pain.  She stabbed the Hagraven through the other eye, this time driving the dagger in deeper.  The Hagraven lay limp and Saadia wiped the eye gunk off her dagger in a quick movement; leaving it smeared on the Hagravens forehead, before putting it back in its holder in her boot. 

She was up and running through the magic flying everywhere in an instant her hammer already swinging at a witch’s head. 

The place stunk of death, and once all the witches were dead, the smell of rotting animal carcasses was the only thing Aduri could think about; it was all pervasive. 

“Hagravens.”  Aela said with a disgusted look as they saw a huge statue built from rotting animal parts, depicting some sort of animal monster.  The tent city was filled with smaller versions of this statue.

“How could they handle living here?”  Aduri said, desperately trying not to wretch.  “How can you stand this reek?”  She asked them.

“Self control.”  Aela answered, “Give it a try.”  She looked around the tents for loot.  “I hate magic.”  She grumbled. 

“This isn’t the same as Elven magic.”  Aduri said softly.  Saadia put a hand on Aela’s arm to stop her from replying to Aduri, so instead Aela just sighed and pointed to a corridor leading out of the stench-filled room. 

But the next room smelled even worse; there were dozens of dead men in there, including the 4 guards that had been killed only a few hours ago. 

“Looks like they were sacrificing men.”  Aduri said as she looked at a man tied down on an altar like table.  A long cut from his Adam’s apple down to his navel showed his innards, spilling out, flies buzzing around the mess. 

“Well even the most awful people have the right idea sometimes.”  Aela answered and Saadia cocked an eyebrow at her.  Aela shrugged and gave a grin in response. 

But Aduri was looking at Aela, and the whole room with shock, surprise…

“Come on.”  Saadia said gently to Aduri, Aela chuckling softly, wondering if the young Elf was going to throw up, again. 

They continued through the room and Saadia stopped, looking up onto a platform with a dozen cages on it. 

“Is that a Spriggan?”  Aduri asked breathlessly. 

“Yes it is.”  Saadia said as she motioned for Aduri to stay behind her and for Aela to come closer. 

The three of them got closer to the cage, Aduri behind Aela and Saadia. 

The Spriggan watched them with wary eyes.

“I think there’s a magic block spell on the cage.”  Aduri whispered, “So she can’t cast her spells to defend herself.”

“Good.”  Aela said, breathing easier, “Let’s leave her there.”

“No.”  Saadia said softly, making eye contact with the Spriggan.  “I won’t leave her locked in here; she’s a guardian of nature.  She is Kynareth’s rage…”  Saadia put her hand on the handle to the cage to test if it was locked.  It was.  So she knelt and began to pick the lock, the Spriggan watching her closely.  “Kynareth guards me, she understands if I have to kill Spriggans.  But I want the Spriggans to understand, that I don’t want to; I’d prefer not to fight them.”  She looked up at the Spriggan, “I respect their roles as guardians of the groves… I want you to return to your grove and protect it.”

“If that thing tries to kill us…”  Aela said shaking her head.

But Saadia ignored Aela’s words.

“Perhaps there’s no need to kill alchemists looking for herbs… perhaps just scare them off.  But definitely kill those that would destroy the wild places.”  Saadia said to the Spriggan, hoping she understood. 

“I think we can all agree with that.”  Aela said honestly. 

The lock clicked and Saadia took a breath before opening the cage door, moving out of the way so that the Spriggan could leave the cage. 

She stared at Saadia for a moment, and then ran out of the cage, heading deeper into the cave system.

“Alright…” Aela said, watching her go. 

They followed the Spriggan and came to a large room with plenty of loot, and standing at a gate was the Spriggan, staring through the gate, hissing and smelling the air. 

Saadia let Aela and Aduri search the room for loot while she approached the Spriggan.  The chain for the gate was right next to the gate. 

As soon as she got close to the Spriggan it quite suddenly turned to stare at her, making Saadia’s heart skip a beat.  But the Spriggan simply watched as she slowly pulled the chain. 

The Spriggan instantly ran off.

“She really wants to kill Hagravens.”  Aduri said.

“Can’t really blame her.”  Saadia answered.

“No.”  Aela agreed, “And like I said, everyone sometimes gets the right idea… Even women made of tree wood…”

They continued up the corridor and saw the Spriggan attacking a room full of witches, 2 Hagraven’s trying to burn her to death. 

Saadia went straight to the aid of the Spriggan.  Knowing that Kynareth was real, that she had saved Saadia’s life… it made Saadia determined to protect that which Kynareth held dear. 

The battle was fierce, and the 2 Hagravens were powerful, and worked together. 

After the battle was done, Saadia expected the Spriggan to run off, but it turned to Saadia and looked at the burns on her hands from the Hagravens fire heating up her weapon until it seared her palms brutally.  But Saadia had held onto her weapon and killed them mercilessly.  The Spriggan took her left hand and held her fingers above it, a glowing green drop dripped from her finger.  Saadia felt instant relief and a red glow emanated from her hands; a healing spell.  The Spriggan took Saadia’s other hand, and healed it as well.  She stared at Saadia for a moment longer and opened her mouth.  The sound of the air itself came from the Spriggan’s mouth. 

“Thank you….”  Saadia said and the Spriggan stared for a moment longer as if trying to understand.  She opened her mouth again.

“She’s speaking to you…” Aduri said in awe. 

The Spriggan bowed her head, and then turned and ran from the room. 

They followed her to see that the room opened up into the sink hole, the opening hidden by the bushes. 

The Spriggan jumped down to the ledge that led out.  She turned and looked at them again, and then ran off. 

“I think you made a friend.”  Aela said and suddenly Saadia remembered something the old woman had said to her.

“The old woman that saved my life and gave me Kynareth’s Kiss said I’d need to make all sorts of different friends…”  Saadia said to herself. 

“Well, you’re succeeding.”  Aela said before she leapt off the ledge to land on the other one.

Saadia helped Aduri before leaping herself, the three of them leaving the cave together.

There was no sign of the Spriggan when they saw daylight again. 

Aela smacked Aduri on the back.

“You did well whelp!”  She declared, “You should think about joining the Companions.”

“Really?”  Aduri asked, stunned.

“Well, as soon as you pick up a weapon and learn to fight properly instead of relying on magic…”  Aela conceded, “But yes.  You have the right heart for it!” 

“Now let’s get you home.”  Saadia said motioning for them all to get moving. 

Avrusa had been glad to see them bring Aduri back in one piece, happy and talking a million miles an hour about everything she had seen.  Avrusa had looked appalled about how dangerous it had all been until the gold had come out of Aduri’s pockets.  Her mood had lightened then and she had thanked Aela and Saadia for keeping her sister safe and giving her a little adventure.  She’d then told Aduri that it wouldn’t be happening again.  But the girl was still buzzing too much from the experience to protest.  She even went to work in the fields in a good mood. 

They headed back to Whiterun, Saadia deciding she’d come back to explore Lake Gier and its islands another time.  There were so many places to explore in the wilds of Skyrim, she wondered if she’d ever find everything there was to find. 

As soon as they got into Whiterun Aela headed to Belethor’s to sell her loot; even though it would be closed at this hour.  And Saadia followed. 

They went to the back entrance of building and banged on the door. 

“Open up you sleazy little bastard!”  Aela commanded and only a few moments later Belethor stood at the door, completely naked, a huge grin on his face.

“You knocked?”  He said, clearly pleased with himself

“You’re disgusting.”  Aela said and pushed past him to get inside.  Saadia looked Belethor up and down and gave him an unimpressed glare, motioning for him to go first.  She didn’t want to squeeze past him; she was much bigger than Aela, she’d have to touch Belethor to get past him. 

When she got to the counter of Belethor’s store Aela was pulling the witch’s robes out of her satchel.

Belethor stood beside the desk, watching her.  Saadia noted that he normally stood behind his counter, but he was using every opportunity to be close to Aela and to make sure she saw his nudity.

“It’s hardly fair to call me disgusting for sleeping naked.”  Belethor complained with a huge shit-eating grin.

“You could have put something on before opening the door.”  Saadia answered and he turned to lean back on his counter, cockily, making sure that both woman could see his full naked body now.

“And keep you fair ladies waiting?”  He asked, “now that’s hardly good business, is it?” 

“How much?”  Aela asked holding up the robes. 

“80 gold.”

“80 gold!”  Aela was infuriated.

“There’s blood all over them; I’ll have to pay to get them cleaned.”

“They’re in perfect condition!”  She pushed the bloody garments into his face

“Alright!  90 gold!”  He yielded.

“If I find out you’re holding back on me…”  Aela said with a threatening tone.

“I would never!”  Belethor protested, “I always give you the best prices, you magnificent woman!”  He declared, clearly loving every minute of this, but also clearly terrified – but that was where the fun was for him. 

“You’re as repugnant as a horker’s shit-stained arsehole.”  Aela growled at him.  She slammed some gems on the table, “You better give me a lot of coin for these, you fetid piece of shit.” 

“Well this emerald is a flawed gem-”  But his words were cut off by Aela’s sword whipping out of its sheath, stopping just short of his throat, her eyes ablaze.

“We both know that gem is flawless, you slimy skeever nutsack.” 

“I have to make money somehow!”  He pleaded.

“Not off me you won’t!”  Aela pressed her sword to his throat.  “You’ll give me a fair price, you musty tower of cold cock spendings.” 

“Fine, but I’ll not give you more than 30 gold for this garnet!”

“You listen to me you limp-cocked, dunderheaded, milk drinking, peacock – if you give me 1 coin less than 50 gold for this garnet I’ll gut you from throat to balls – if you have any.”

“45 or I’ll be making a loss!”

“Then you’ll just have to make a loss, you conceited, narcissistic, vainglorious, son of a Hagraven and a troll.”

“Okay 50!” 

Saadia watched in awe at Aela’s selling style; Saadia was usually pretty nice to the shopkeepers.  Although she avoided Belethor when she could, preferring to go to Lucan in Riverwood for non-weapons, non-armour loot.  Aela held out her hand to Saadia and Saadia handed her the items she wanted to sell, one by one, Aela negotiating prices. 

Blood was drawn, names were called, threats were made.

Aela was satisfied, and judging by Belethor’s erection, so was he… to a lesser extent.

“I’d cut off my right testicle just to touch you.”  Belethor said in awe of Aela, “You terrifying Goddess…”

“You’d have to cut off a lot more than that for me to even piss on you, you foul, prancing-” She saw the look of adoration in his eyes.  “Ugh!”  She made a disgusted sound.  “Get away from me.”  She said leaving the room.

“You’ve got no chance.”  Saadia said to Belethor.

“Oh I know…”  He sighed, “And she terrifies me!”  He laughed, “But she is perfection.”  He said wistfully.  “Do come back…”  He crooned to their leaving backs.

 


	19. Part 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's my anniversary today with my partner! so in celebration i'm putting this installment out early!!
> 
> i hope you all enjoy it!
> 
> and thank you so much for your comments - they give me fuel to keep writing lots more! you're all the best for reading this!

Saadia had spent a lot of time with Aela and Lucia over the past few days. 

Aela had taught Saadia how to handle all the local shop-keepers according to her own acerbic style.  Although she was genuinely nice to all the female shop-keepers, Saadia noticed.  And she never said a harsh word to Lucia, which Saadia appreciated. 

It had been an eye-opening experience; Aela was getting much better prices than Saadia.  Although, Aela pointed out that Saadia was getting better prices than most people. 

But now she was happily heading to her other home; Lakeview Manor.  Lucia was staying in town for tutoring with the Jarl’s tutor; the problem of her tutor had not been resolved, but Camilla thought she may have found someone.  Saadia was going to meet with her some time over the next few days, then send her on to Whiterun for Lydia and Lucia to meet, if she was any good. 

She had spent all day yesterday with Lucia and Lydia buying food for the house and new clothes for Lucia; she was growing quickly.  So today she felt mellow and happy; spending time with her daughter always left her at peace. 

She had managed to find 1 Jazbay grape in Arcadia’s Cauldron, for sale – it had been expensive.  But Ria, the resident plant expert, had told Saadia that she’d be able to plant it in rich soil in a sunny position and it would grow. 

So the first thing Saadia did when she got home was step into the tiny side garden Jee-Tah had set up for growing fresh fruit, vegetables and herbs.  It was already doing wonderfully.  She found a small corner and planted the Jazbay grape, making a mental note to let Jee-Tah know it was there.  She knew that Jazbay pie was one of his favourite recipes, so he’d probably be glad to have a bush, since the grapes were so expensive.  And the grapes were said to increase stamina and sexual prowess amongst other things, Arcadia had told her all about it when she’d bought the grape. 

Saadia suddenly had the thought to grow some Deathbell too.  But not in this garden; this was a food garden.

She got up and was surprised to see Vilkas walking through the forest not far from the stables. 

“Hi!”  She called to him and he turned to look at her, obviously surprised to see her.

“I wasn’t expecting you out here today.”  He said, as if this were his house, not hers.

“Likewise.”  She said, amused. 

“I was just re-marking.”  He explained.

“Ah!”  Saadia understood.  “Doesn’t seemed to have affected you so much this time.”  Saadia noted.

“Oh I didn’t need to turn.”  He said and held up his hand, his eyes glowing amber as the nails grew longer, his fingers elongating.  Saadia watched with amazement and when she looked up at him, his teeth were longer, his eyes practically glowing with the wolf.  “I just needed the claws.”  He said, his voice deeper than usual.  “When you first put the marks down you need to fully turn to put your full strength into them; make them deep enough.”  He said as his fingers returned to their normal length, “But I’m just reapplying scent.”

“So this rogue wolf is still hanging about?”  She said.

“Rogue wolf?”  He asked amused.  “Yeah and he left some scratches on one of our trees.”

“Is he challenging you?”  She asked, worried. 

“No.”  Vilkas answered, “He left the marks below ours, which means he wants to join our pack.”  He explained.

“Will you let him?  Saadia thought of the empty chair at the head table. 

“Not up to me.”  Vilkas shrugged, “It’s up to all of us.  Including you.”  He noted. 

“It must be odd, having a non-pack member helping make decisions.”

“If you think you’re not part of this pack just because you don’t have the Beastblood you are very mistaken.”  He answered, “Anyway, Aela went to see him yesterday and I’m expecting her back here at any moment.” 

“She went alone?”

“You know what she’s like.”  Vilkas said, “She decided it would be less threatening for him that way.” 

“I guess if you all showed up it would be-”

“We.”  Vilkas corrected, “If we all showed up, it would be… scary?”  He guessed her sentence ending. 

“Intimidating.”  Saadia deliberately changed her last word so as to not give him the satisfaction.  But that just made him laugh.  Which of course made her laugh. 

“You know, I wanted to tell you that you have some fine horses.”  He said, “Gunjar knows what he’s about.”  He said looking in at the horses. 

“You know about horses?”

“Only a little.”  He said with a modest smile.  But Saadia could already tell he would know a lot more than he was letting on.  She was about to say something when she saw Aela in the woods, heading towards them. 

She pointed her out to Vilkas and they walked to meet her. 

“Well, his name is Sindig.”  She said instantly.

“What do you make of him?”  Vilkas asked. 

“I don’t think he has full control over it.”  Aela said honestly.  “He could be a liability.”

“Or we could help teach him how to control it before he goes feral.”  Vilkas countered.

“Yes I did think that… but I’m not sure that he wants complete control…”  She sighed, “Or perhaps he does and I read him wrong… he’s a twitchy man.” 

“Twitchy?”  Saadia didn’t like the sound of that. 

“Yes.”  Aela answered gravely.  “Anyway, I’ve told him to come and meet the whole pack but he’s nervous.”

“Scared we’ll kill him?”  Vilkas asked, already knowing the answer. 

“Yes.”  Aela said and turned to Saadia, “Either way, he doesn’t seem to be a deliberate threat to your family sister… still…”

“You don’t trust him?”  Saadia knew.

“I don’t know.”  Aela said shaking her head, “I think we should keep marking and still keep a Circle member here as often as possible.”  She said, “Especially when Lucia is out here… I think a kid might be too much for him to handle…”

“You think he won’t be able to control it around a child?”  Saadia asked and Aela shook her head. 

“Too much like prey.”  Vilkas said sourly, his eyes lowered.

“I see.”  Saadia said. 

“It’s not like that for us.”  Aela said.

“No.”  Vilkas backed Aela up in a firm voice.

“But it is for some… those that are close to going feral.”  Aela said, sounding uncomfortable.  “I don’t know Vilkas…”  She said shaking her head again.  “Anyway, I have to go and report to Kodlak and Skjor about this Sindig.”

“And Farkas.”  Saadia said, but Aela and Vilkas both gave her a look.  “Alright not Farkas.”  She had to admit that making the big decisions was not Farkas’s thing. 

“I’ll see you both later.”  Aela said and set off at a run. 

“I should probably head back with her…”  Vilkas said, almost reluctantly. 

“I was actually wondering…” 

“Yes?”  He asked, keen to hear what she had to say.

“If you would tattoo me?”  Saadia said, “If – if you can…” She stuttered, “if you have the skill, I mean…”  She bit her bottom lip and looked down, trying to stop her stomach from crawling with butterflies.  She was nervous about the tattoo; not sure if Kynareth’s Kiss would let her have one, or if it would hurt too much, or if Vilkas would see it as inappropriate for her to ask him.

“That’s a big thing.”  He said slowly and Saadia furrowed her brows, afraid she’d asked too much of him. 

“I’m sorry.”  She said, dismissing her request with a smile and a wave of her hand.

“No…” He shook his head; she didn’t need to apologise, “It’s just that it’s a very intimate bond.”  He said.

“You offered me a far more intimate bond.”  She reminded him and he nodded.

“The offer still stands as well.”  He said. 

“Well… Aela wants to do it.”  Saadia said.

“Seems like it’s guaranteed to happen.”  He said softly, his eyes on her face.

“I haven’t decided that.”  She said.  “And you don’t sound as disappointed as I imagined you would.”  She scrunched up her face at him. 

“Anyway,” He changed the topic, “Are you sure you want me to tattoo you; I’ll have left my mark on your forever.”  He asked.

“I’m sure.”  She nodded, “I understand what you’re saying, but honestly Vilkas, there’s no one else I’d want to tattoo me.”  She said honestly, “You’re my best friend.”  She shrugged, “So that’s that.” 

“That’s that.”  He repeated, a warm smile on his face.

“So can you do it?”

“Well I did Aela’s only tattoo, and all of Skjor’s…”  He said with a small smile, “So I guess I might be alright…”

“Is there anything you can’t do?”  She said rolling her eyes.

“I can’t Shout.”  He answered with a cheeky grin.  “I’m not great at archery.”  He admitted.  “Camilla was telling me about cheese-making and let me tell you… she lost me… that stuff… is…boring!”  He admitted with a laugh.  Saadia laughed.  “I can give you a long list of things I’m not good at.”

“Talking to beautiful women.”  Saadia noted.

“Ah yes.”  He agreed.  “Although perhaps I’m getting better at that.” 

“Getting some action, are you?”  Saadia said as they began walking back to the house.

“Not nearly enough.”  He said, “But then I think it would be impossible to keep up with my libido.” 

“I’m sure you could if you tried.”  She said.

“Impossible – there’s not enough hours in the day.”  He answered with a straight face.  But Saadia laughed, “And there’s other things I love like fighting and reading…”  He sighed.  “Drinking.”  He added. 

“So you need several more hours in every day…?”  She as thoroughly amused.

“I’d just want to fill them with rutting too.”  He complained with a wry grin. 

“Sounds like it’s a problem for you?”

“No.”  He said with a small, amused shake of his head.  “I don’t mind always being up for it.”  He gave her an unreadable expression.  “Anyway, tell me about this tattoo.”

“I can show you a really bad drawing of what I want.”  Saadia said, “And I also want Lucia’s name.”

“Of course.”  Vilkas nodded. 

“But I’m not sure where.”

“Ankle is a good place; she is the foundation of your strength.”  Vilkas said, “But not your feet.  That’s were your vanquished enemies go.” 

“I should put Kvenel there.”  Saadia said, glad she could finally say his name without nearly shuddering.

“If you want.”  Vilkas said, “He is beneath you, so it’s a good place for him.” 

“I’m not sure he deserves a tattoo.”  Saadia said thoughtfully.

“You should only mark yourself with the things that matter to you.”  Vilkas said, “They can be whatever you want.  A pretty flower, a life or death battle, the name of you daughter… anything that matters to you.”  He looked at her, “Does Kvenel matter to you?”

“Beating him does.”  Saadia said honestly. 

“Enough to mark yourself with it?”

“I don’t know.”

“You’ve got plenty of time to decide.” 

Saadia made a noise of agreement and opened the door. 

“Honoured land-strider!”  Jee-Tah said happily, “It is good to see you!”

“Hello Jee-Tah.  I planted a Jazbay in your garden.”  She said.

“It is your garden, Saadia.  And I am most glad to have a Jazbay grape bush!”  He answered happily.  “I will make you many pies and dumplings.” 

“Make some for yourself as well.”  She said.  “Can we have some drinks?”

“Of course, what would you like?”

“Just water.”  Saadia answered and Jee-Tah nodded before looking to Vilkas for his order.

“Have you got any wine spiced with Nightshade?”  Vilkas asked.

“I have not.”  Jee-Tah sounded upset, “It is not a drink many Humans enjoy.” 

“Because it hits you like a kick from a horse in the head.”  Vilkas laughed.  “It’s probably for the best that you don’t have it.”  He said, “Just some water, and I’m going to write a list of things I need…?”

“I’ll get them all for you.”  Jee-Tah answered, “Let me get paper and ink and quills for you.”

“I didn’t ask you if you wanted to do it.”  Saadia said as they sat down at the table.”

“Do I want to tattoo my Shield-sister, the Dragonborn, Thane of every damned Hold, my dearest friend?”  He asked, “Tough question.”  He said cheekily, “of course I do.  It’d be an honour.  And we’ll do it today.”

“Today?”

“Most of the supplies I need for it will already be in the house, some will be available in the local forest, and he might have to go out to Riverwood or Whiterun for others, but within a few hours, we’ll be able to begin.” 

“I hadn’t expected it to be so soon…”  She said nervously.

“Do you want to wait?”

“It’s just… my tattoo design is very bad… I’m not much of a drawer.”  She explained, “I was hoping to have more time to make it better.”

“I can help with that.”  He said.

“That’d be great.” 

She took the drawing of the wolf out of her satchel.

“For the Circle?”  He asked, “What if Kodlak finds a cure for us?”  He said with a wry grin. 

“Well you’ll always be a Wolf brother, won’t you?”  She asked, her eyes on the picture.  But his silence made her look up.  He was looking at her, his lips slightly parted.  “What?”  She asked him.

“Is it…?”  He stopped, clearly not believing his own thought, “It this…?” His fingers went to the picture, “Is this me?”  His tone indicated that he didn’t believe it was, but that he had to clarify.

“Well it started being about the Circle, which is why it’s the shape it is… but… it kind of ended up just being you.”  She shrugged, “You said I had had an impact on you and your life.  Well, likewise.”

He was silent for so long that she began to worry that she had offended him.

“I don’t know that I can be your first tattoo…”  He said eventually, “We’ll have to put Lucia on first.”  She could tell that he was greatly affected by this.

“I don’t have to get it if it upsets you?”  Saadia was worried. 

“I’m sorry that my behaviour hasn’t properly shown the honour I feel that you would…”  He shook his head, “I’m just…”

“It’s you that’s speechless now!”  She laughed.  He stared at her laughing for a moment and then laughed too. 

Jee-Tah returned with their drinks and some paper.  Vilkas thanked him and asked him to hang around for a few minutes while he wrote a list. 

When Jee-Tah read the list, his head tilted to the side.

“We have many of these things.”  He hissed thoughtfully.  “But I will have to travel to Riverwood for some of them.” 

“How quick can you be?”  Vilkas asked.

“Give me 3 hours, friend of Saadia.”  He answered. 

“I’ll give you 4.”  Vilkas returned.  “Unless you’re opposed?”  He asked Saadia and she shook her head.

“I’ve got a few days spare, take your time Jee-Tah.”  Saadia answered. 

Jee-Tah bowed low and left them, Saadia rolling her eyes as Vilkas snickered at Saadia’s sigh.

“I tell them not to bow.”  She said. 

“Where is your bard?”  Vilkas asked, deciding not to tease her, “We have some time…”

“Llewellyn?”  She called out and a head popped over the bannister from the next floor up.

“You called?”  He asked in a respectful tone. 

“Can you come down in about 20 minutes and sing us some songs?”  Saadia asked.

“Of course!”  He said delightedly. 

“I think I might have a hot bath.”  Saadia said as she got up and grabbed some chopped wood from under the stairs.  “Want to join me?”  She asked Vilkas, “We’ll be able to hear Llewellyn if we leave the doors open.

“Sounds good.”  Vilkas remembered that the bath tub was big enough to for the entire Circle in it without a problem, so this would hardly be an intimate affair.  He cleared his throat and grabbed some more wood to help build the fire under the bath tub.

Once the fire was going, Saadia called up to Llewellyn to tell him what was happening, and told him to take his time coming down. 

She took off her clothes, completely used to being naked in front of people she wasn’t bedding now; Jee-Tah often helped her with her clothing and brought her breakfast in bed and Llewellyn had sung to her in the bath tub before.  Although he always did that from the grand hall because the acoustics of the entire house were amazing, and Faendal had done an amazing job in the bathing room.  When the door was closed not a sound from the house penetrated the room.  But when the door was open, you could hear everything in the entire house, and Llewellyn’s singing was just as beautiful in here as it was in the great hall. 

She dropped her clothes into the clothes basket; Jee-Tah washed her clothes for her and had put handy baskets in her bedroom and this room to help keep the place tidy.  Vilkas put his armour on the bench Faendal had just put in, with a looking glass atop of it, and dropped his clothes on the floor and kept his eyes down as Saadia stepped into the bath.  He knew not to sexualise a person without their permission, but he also knew he had a bad track record of this with Saadia.  So he focussed on kicking his clothes under the bench until Saadia was safely in the water.  Then he joined her.

“We should get Faendal to build one of these in Jorrvaskr.” Vilkas sighed as he laid back in the warming water.  It was comfortable and warm and wonderful – and as the fire heated up it would get delightfully hot and steamy. 

“You can always come here and use my bath.”  She said.

“Except for when you’re not here.”  Vilkas noted. 

“Oh Farkas has a key for both of my homes; borrow them.”  She shrugged, “Or I can give you a spare key?”  She said it nonchalantly, so Vilkas tried not to stare at her.  She didn’t seem to understand how important something like this was.  He supposed it came from being raised as she had been.  She hadn’t had her own home, her own space; everything was shared amongst many.  “I got a few cut,” She was continuing, “I think you and Aela could both have a key.” 

“If you wish.”  Vilkas said, keeping his tone neutral.

Llewellyn began to sing in the great hallway and Saadia leaned forward in the bath.

“Oh I heard this song at the Fertility Festival!”  Saadia said as Llewellyn started singing about two lovers kept apart by parents with silver daggers, lovers who would eventually kill themselves.  But Llewellyn sang it from a third person perspective, changing the words to suit. 

“It’s a popular song at the moment.”  Vilkas noted. 

“I really don’t understand the Nord obsession with dying for love!”  She shook her head.

“Yes you do.”  He answered softly.  She began to shake her head but he continued, “Would you die to protect Lucia?”

“Of course.”  Saadia answered instantly.

“Because you love her.”

“But that’s a different type of love.”  Saadia countered.

“Love is love.”  Vilkas said, “Only some love has sex associated with it; the majority of love doesn’t.”  He went on, “We die for the love of our country, the love of our friends, family, the love of freedom.  And yes sometimes we die for the love of our lover.”  She stared at him as he spoke.  “Sometimes we love someone so much, we couldn’t imagine our lives without them.”  Vilkas said, “Could you imagine your life without Lucia.”

“No.”  She said solemnly.

“Now, I know you would find a way to carry on in the face of such a painful loss.  But some people can’t find a way.  Or they don’t want to; and they have a right to not feel pain.”  Vilkas looked up into her eyes, “Some people don’t want to face this world alone, without the ones they love.  And that’s their choice.  Dying for love can mean so many different things.  You’d be willing to do it in battle, but not at your own hand.  But either way, you’re still willing to die for love.”

“I see.”  She said softly, looking down, “We’re not all the same, I know… I just couldn’t imagine killing myself for any reason.”  She said thoughtfully. “But we’re all made differently.”  She looked up in his eyes.  “Would you do it?” 

“I would die for those I love.”  He said simply.

“But would you kill yourself?”

He looked down, deep in thought, taking a deep breath.

“I don’t know.”  He said eventually, “I like to think I wouldn’t… but there are some people I don’t know I could stand to live without.” 

“Like Farkas.”  She understood.

“Yes.”  He nodded, “I tend to think we’ll always be together, but I suppose eventually one of us will die first…”  He sighed.  “Heavy topic.”  He tried to smile.  But he watched Saadia sink into the water until only her face was above the water… and then her toes popped above the water, and his smile became genuine as she scrunched them and straightened them, her red hair waving sinuously around her in the water.  And she started to sing along with Llewellyn as he began to sing ‘Ragnor the Red.’

“Well I like to bring you the tricky topics.”  She said with a cheeky grin, then sang another line of the song softly.  “You know if either of you get married, that’ll really change your dynamic.”  She noted. 

“I had thought of that.”  He agreed.  “I’d miss seeing him as often, but at least he’d still be alive, and I’d know he was happy with you.” 

“Why are you assuming Farkas is getting married – it could be you!  And also – I have no intention of ever getting married.”

“I probably won’t get married.”  Vilkas said, “But Farkas cares very deeply about you…”  He sighed, “I shouldn’t speak about it; your relationship is yours.  I’m sorry I assumed.” 

“Trying to play matchmaker for your brother?”  She teased. 

“I would see him be as happy as possible.”  Vilkas answered.

“Perhaps you should focus on your own happiness?”

“I fear that my happiness would exclude my brother’s.”  He answered. 

“You think that if you’re happy, Farkas can’t be?”  She asked, sitting back up.  “Why?”

“I’m just making excuses.”  He answered, “To not talk about my happiness.” 

“Because you know I’ll badger you about your beautiful woman!”  Saadia teased.

“Indeed.” 

“Well since you won’t go after her and be happy,” Saadia said, “You’ll die an old lonely man, and Farkas will marry some buxom Nord from a little village and have dozens of children.” 

“And you shall also die alone.”  He answered. 

“Oh well, maybe once we both reach 60 we can marry each other!”  She laughed, “Of course, we’ll never live that long.”

“Ah yes, the life of a warrior.”  Vilkas cleared his throat. 

“We’ll never be alone Vilkas.”  She said more seriously.  “We’ll always have the Circle… we’ll always have our friendships; each other.” 

“I know.”  He said softly. 

“So why haven’t you chased after this beautiful woman?” 

Vilkas sighed and Saadia laughed delightedly. 

“I don’t chase.  I never chase.”  Vilkas said seriously.

“No, you hunt.”  Saadia teased. 

“Yes, and I don’t hunt people.”  He said meaningfully. 

Saadia sighed and shrugged.

“I think you’re being terribly unfair to her.”  She noted and he gave her an exasperated look.  “She doesn’t get to have you.”  Her words softened his expression.

“But you think too highly of me.”  He asserted, “I’m stubborn, cantankerous, sour and often domineering.” 

“And kind, and humble and generous, and fierce, and loyal.”  Saadia countered.  “I’ll not be waylaid.” 

“Of course not; stubborn woman.”  He said, his eyes showing how much he admired her, even as his tone was sour.  She laughed with real delight at his mood. 

“So I’m still curious about Gropekunte Lane.”  Saadia said, “You never did tell me what all of the brothels were down there… or how you came to know what they all are…”  She asked as she reached over to the washcloth shelf that Faendal had installed, Camilla had trained all sorts of mossy plants to grow on the shelf.  It was gorgeous.  She tossed a cloth to Vilkas and took one for herself, picking up some lemon scented soap.  “So give me all the details!”  She commanded as she began to slowly wash herself, luxuriating in the lush soap Camilla, or possibly Jee-Tah had put on the shelf. 

“What do you want to know?”

“Everything!”  Saadia said merrily.

“There’s a lot to tell, so you have to give me a starting point.”

“Well downstairs, you only really named two of the brothels…”

“The Pleasure Den and the Piss Palace.”  He said, sucking his teeth; he had a feeling he knew where this was going.

“Pleasure Den?  Wasn’t it a place for pain?”

“Well…”  He sighed, “Sometimes, if done well,” He tried to use a delicate, diplomatic voice; this was a difficult topic to talk with Saadia about for him, “Pain can enhance pleasure.”

“Really?”  She sounded far too curious for Vilkas’s liking; it was arousing to hear that note in her voice.  He cleared his throat.

“And some people just really like pain… giving and getting.”  Vilkas shrugged.

“What if you like pain and piss…?”  She scrunched her nose.

“There’s a general brothel downstairs as well – the biggest brothel.”

“Oh…”  She said thoughtfully.  “And you…?”

“On occasion enjoy pain.”  He sighed. 

“Would you call yourself an expert in it?”  She laughed at his sighing mood.

“Hardly.”

“And piss…?”  Her face scrunched up again and he sighed deeply.

“I’ve tried most things…” He admitted.  “There’s a lot of different brothels down there…”

“Is it enjoyable?”  She tried to wrap her head around it, “I mean whenever I pass water it’s just… it just is… it’s neither good nor bad…”

“The act or peeing isn’t pleasurable to me, and to be honest it’s not really my thing.”  He said, “But there are people who do enjoy it… and my big thing is that I really enjoy it when the other person or people are enjoying it.” 

“So if the persons you are with enjoy piss…”

“Then I get off on it because they are.”  He said with a shrug.  “But just up to me?  Not my thing.”  He shrugged, “I really enjoy lovers that are adventurous and curious and willing to try almost anything in the pursuit of pleasure.”

She made a thoughtful sound she sunk back down into the water, ducking her face under.  Vilkas wondered what that sound had meant, but Saadia was thinking about the feast she’d hosted.  When she had drunkenly said he could do anything he liked to her as long as she came… and the way that had made him look at her.  What she had said to him, was in essence, his ‘thing’.  She realised that she had accidentally said probably one of most arousing things she could say to Vilkas… no wonder it had aroused him. 

Saadia suddenly realised that her actions had no doubt been making this whole thing much harder for him; there were so many things she just didn’t know about him, so she couldn’t avoid saying things to him that would call to the wolf. 

And just like that Saadia decided she had to learn absolutely everything about him, especially his sexuality, so she could avoid triggering the wolf in him in future. 

She popped back up from under the water, her eyes on him.  Vilkas immediately saw an intense sense of purpose in her eyes that he didn’t understand.

“What’s the most pleasurable sexual experience you’ve ever had?”  She asked him in a business-like tone.

“Um…”  He was surprised by her question, “I really couldn’t say…. Most of them have been great in their own way.” 

“Ok… well what’s something you liked that you didn’t expect to like?”  She tried a different tact.

“Um…”  He furrowed his brows at her, confused by her sudden intensity in regards to his sex-life.  “I guess… probably denial is the best answer to that.”

“Denial?”

“It’s where you deny yourself the release of orgasm, but you still partake in sexual activity.” 

“Why would you do that?”  She was perplexed.

“Well that’s what I thought until I did it.”  He laughed.  “It makes every touch feel so much more sensual, every sexual activity so much more pleasurable, your desire for sex increases every minute you hold out… until the point where you can think of little else.  And my orgasms at the end of it were… incredible.”  He sighed wistfully, “I only lasted 5 days.  Some people last months…”  He shook his head, knowing he would never last that long.  “And it’s definitely better experienced with someone who can guide you through it.”

“I don’t think I could ever do that…”  Saadia marvelled.

“Well I prefer to cum at least once a day, preferably much more.”  He agreed, “So it was a challenge.”

“Yeah me too.”  She agreed, “Unless I’m on jobs of course.”  She said, “I can keep it under wraps if I need to.”

“Of course.”  Vilkas agreed. 

“You know when you implied I was a wench, I thought you meant it as an insult.”  Saadia said with a laugh, “I know differently now… but at the time, I really didn’t know how to take it.”

“I meant no insult, wenches are important professionals… who I greatly admire.”  Vilkas replied softly, “But… my tone, perhaps, was far too unfriendly.”

“Perhaps.”  She said with an amused grin.

“I did mean to make you uncomfortable, I am sorry about that.”  He confessed.

“I don’t know why I took it as an offense.”  She said, “Was it your tone, or was it because of my father’s attitudes to sex?”

“I’m happy for you to blame my tone.  I was being an arse.” 

“I suppose.”  She said softly, “But Vilkas, sometimes I worry that I’m doing something wrong now, having sex outside of marriage.”  She whispered in confession.

“Nords have always had sex outside of marriage.”  Vilkas countered in a strong voice; she needed to hear something to counter her father’s poison.  “If he’s trying to go back to a time when that didn’t happen he’s going to have to go back a long, long time - back to before there were Nords I suspect.”  He leaned forward, “You are doing nothing wrong by having your own personal relationship to sex.”  He said firmly, his eyes on hers, “We each have our own relationship with sex, and as long as it is healthy and right for us, it’s perfect.”  He leaned back, his arms going to the bath lip and lazing comfortably, “What a healthy relationship with sex looks like is different for everyone.  From those that want it never to those that want it always, and everything in between.  If it works for you and makes you happy – it’s right.  Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.  No one.  Not even your parents.” 

“Well my mother would probably agree with you.”  Saadia said. 

“What was she like?”

“What is she like.” Saadia corrected.  “She’s not dead… at least I hope she’s not.”  She pulled her knees up and laced her arms around them under the water.  “I keep reminding myself of what she looked like so I can imagine her singing nursery rhymes to me… the way her eyes would light up when the sun came through the roof-window.”  Vilkas saw the way her eyes unfocussed, seeing the past.

“What does she look like?  Make me see her in my mind, so I’ll know her when we go to rescue her.”  

Saadia’s eyes focussed on him and he could see that she appreciated his words. 

“She has the most beautiful hair.”  Saadia said with a grin, “It’s kind of kinky, and thick and she used to let me pull on it, because I was fascinated by how it would be three time longer when pulled, and it would spring back to a really tight little curl…”  She grinned with memory, “And it sits around her head like the crown of a Goddess, and when the sun shines through the ends it’s ringed by deep red flames of red…”

“Beautiful.”  Vilkas said softly and she nodded.

“I often wished my hair was like hers.  Mine’s thicker than a Nord’s, but it still flows like a Nord’s… hers sits up above her head.  So magnificent… and she has a little red in hers that you can see in the sun.  But mine simply is red.”

“Yours is beautiful too.”  He said gently.

“I suppose… She told me that it meant I was blessed by the God’s to be a Redguard with red hair.”  Saadia smiled sadly.

“She was right.”  Vilkas noted.

“I suppose she was.”  She agreed, “And her eyes are amber yellow… and alive with music and love and poetry… her skin is dark as night.”  Saadia sighed, “She is darker than me, and even though my father said I was too dark, he thinks her a great beauty.  So I don’t think it’s the darkness of my skin he hated… I think he thinks her beauty is so immense because her skin is as smooth and clear as ebony; immaculate and unblemished.  And mine is not, so I am ugly, and he simply names my darkness as the cause.”  Saadia said with a slight chuckle.  

“Or he’s a hypocrite.”  Vilkas said.

“Perhaps.  Probably.”  Saadia shrugged.  “I care not.  My mother… She looks like a Goddess Vilkas; that’s how you’ll know her.  And you’ll instantly fall in love with her, because she is everything good in this world.”  Saadia said simply.

“Unlikely.”  Vilkas said, but still grinned at her.  “Give me more details of how she looks.  Is she similar in appearance to you?”

“Her nose is narrower than mine, but our lips and chin are the same… and she is very slender.”  Saadia thought of her mother wearing the simple tunics with long sleeves and flowing skirts they wore when in the inner chambers.  Then she remembered her mother readying herself for a visit by her father.  She wore different clothes, she painted her face, her lips a deep red.  All the wives were expected to do this.  “She did everything she could to make her children happy in that place.  She never lost hope… she always sung to us and cared for us… and when one of the other wives couldn’t take it anymore… she’d care for their children too… Of course, all the wives looked out for each other.  But I think my mother was the best of them.”  She said, “I’m not biased at all.”  She laughed.

“Of course not!”  He agreed with a knowing grin.  “What is her name?” 

“Zanib.”  Saadia said, “Her name is Zanib.” 

“We’re going to free her.”

“I have to go soon.”  Saadia said, “He kills women when he thinks they start to look too aged.”  She looked down, her brows furrowing with pain.  “My mother was 13 when she had me.  I’m her eldest.” 

Vilkas was horrified that a girl as young as 13 should be abducted, raped and forced to mother children… But he swallowed down his disgust, his horror, and stuck to the point at hand.

“So she’s in her early 40s?”

“Yeah.”  Saadia nodded, “All the wives do all they can to stay attractive to him.  But none of them ever last past 45.”  She said softly.  “But I don’t know how to storm that castle…”

“Tell me about it.”  He said, wanting to start on a solid plan.  “Put me in the position of standing at the front door, and walk me through it.”

“Well first you have to get through the bandits and pirates on the island, and the treacherous jungles.”  She said with a slightly bitter smile.  “After those, if you were coming to the front door, which I’m sure you would be, since there’s no way you could find the secret exit I went out through.”

“If he hasn’t destroyed it.”

“He may have.  Or he may have increased security.  There’s no way he’s left himself without a secret exit for himself.”  She sighed and closed her eyes, trying to picture the castle she’d seen mostly from the inside.  “You’d be on a cobbled road, and ahead of you would be a huge stone wall, solid, at least 3 storeys high, one tower on each corner and a tower on either side of the solid stone doors.  To the left,” Her left hand rose and traced the images in the air, “Are the barracks, heavily fortified and filled with bunks for the army of the brothers.”  She took a moment to think, “The entire complex is surrounded by this wall, manned by the army of the brothers, with several towers along the wall, and a moat comes right up to the wall on the inside of the complex.”  Her hands drew the wall, the water lapping at its walls, her eyes still closed.  Vilkas pictured it in his mind.  It was already too well defended for a frontal assault, and he had a feeling there would be more.  “There’s a drawbridge over the moat at the front.  The back passage goes under the moat and under the wall.”  She added, “And the castle is surrounded by gardens and woodlands, with guards in it; the army of the brothers.”  She opened her eyes and looked at him, “They are not to be underestimated.”  She noted and he nodded.  “The castle has a central, two storey building with huge double doors as the main entrance.  They’re stone of course.  Everything is stone.” 

“He wasn’t taking any chances.”  Vilkas noted and she nodded. 

“The central building is my father’s rooms.  It has his bedrooms, his dressing rooms, his libraries, his great hall, with a fire pit… He entertains guests there.  The servants’ rooms, kitchens, laundering room and all of those things are below the main castle.  Though I think they are slaves not servants...”  She stopped, trying to think how to best describe the rest of it.  “On the 4 corners of the central building are 4 towers… 8 storeys high.  Each tower is independent, and the space in between the two towers on the right are the Shield-maiden training grounds for both towers on the right, and it’s the same on the left.  Which means half of the Shield-maidens know each other well and the other half don’t.”  She sighed, “It was part of his plan to stop us from having loyalties to anyone but him.  The Shield-maidens could never fully unite against him.  Anyway, each tower has a central atrium, a glass roof over it, but partially open to the air, and we grow fruit trees and bushes there… it’s actually the only light the inner chambers get, so the mothers and the beauties enjoy that little bit of land.  Around the central atrium the mother’s rooms are arranged.  Beauties and children sleep in with their mothers until they are sold or become initiated.”  She continued, her eyes down, “unless father wants to visit with the mother, of course.”  She said, “Then they are not permitted in the room until he is done with her.” 

“Right.”  Vilkas said, his jaw set, imaging the life these women must have.

“There’s 6 doors off the central room.  One to each tower in the corners, the front door, and opposite the front door there’s the door that leads to the hallway, and it has the stairs that leads to the kitchens, slave quarters, his personal chambers, and doors to guest rooms, the library, things like that, off it.  Some of these things are underground and some of them are on the floor above the central fire pit – the room you first walk into.  And some are off a hallway at the back of the castle.”  Saadia said, “it’s a little bit of a maze.  But the towers are simple in design – though deadly.  There’s only one door out of each of the inner chambers.  It’s heavily locked and guarded.  And it leads into the Shield-maidens’ quarters.  And our quarters wrapped around theirs for 8 storeys, being a complete barrier between them and the outside world.”  She said, drawing a square inside of a square in the air.  “And the door to our quarters opens up into the central rooms.  It is also heavily locked and guarded by Shield-maidens.” 

“How did you ever get out?”

“I was considered one of the best Shield-maidens.”  She explained, “Over half of the girls sent to us do not pass their training.  But my success rate with training them was much higher.”

“You only had to kill 2.”  He remembered.

“So I was allowed to choose whatever guard duties I wanted… I did the graveyard shift on the door.  One guard inside.  None outside.  And I learned to pick locks.”

“His security won’t be so lax anymore.”

“No.”  Saadia agreed.  “He’d gone years without any escape attempts, no problems with his wives or his armies… he was relaxed.  That’s the only reason I got my chance… and for years I used it only to sneak into his library to read.”  She shook her head.  “The army of brothers is fierce and huge, but undisciplined.  They live to increase their numbers and die in service to my father.”  She said, “So they carefully train each boy they get to be the best he can be.”

“Very different to the Shield-maidens.”  He said.

“Yes we had to be the best of the best.  To be better than every other fighter on the island.”  She said.  “Half of us would be on active guard duty, the other half in training.  It always swapped every day.”  Saadia explained.  But days were never always the same length.”  She added and Vilkas gave her a confused look.  “When one of the halves went into training each day, we didn’t leave until someone had died; killed in battle.  Usually one of the brothers that had come to test themselves against us.  But not always.  Sometimes the bandits or pirates would train someone up especially to take us on; they thought it a kind of honour to kill one of us.  As far as I know none of them ever did.  I think only 2 brothers have ever managed it.  And we thought it easy sport to kill one of them… A rest day in our usual regime of training, if you will.  On a day when we had to kill one of our own… we might not stop for days in a row.” 

“By the Gods.  So a day could actually be several days?”

“That’s right.  The day didn’t end until someone died.  Then we got to sleep and start a new day guarding, while those that had been guarding went into training.”  She said, “It was a brutal test of strength, skill, power… every day… to ensure that only the absolute strongest guarded the wives and beauties.” 

“And here you are.  Still alive.” 

“I think I survived out of sheer spite.”  She answered with a small smile.

“Nothing wrong with living on vitriol.”  He said, “I think I’ve been underestimating you.  And I happen to think you’re one of the best warriors I know.  But I’m not sure I could survive as long as you did in those circumstances.” 

“Now you underestimate yourself.”  She replied.  “And our most sacred duty was guarding our father.”  She said, “I often got the duty of watching his door while he slept… that was always done in groups of 4 – one from each tower.”  She said, “And we’d softly talk, sharing news of our mothers.  I think he didn’t realise that his attempts at dividing the Shield-maidens only made us more united.”

“Tell me about his attempts?” 

“When we came of age, he would move us out of our mother’s tower into a tower on the other side of the castle.”  She said, “So we wouldn’t have connections to our mothers anymore.  We would be guarding mothers and beauties we didn’t know, had never met before.” 

“So you didn’t see your mother from the age of 11?”

“No.  But when I was 17, I was placed on my first sleep watch outside his sleeping chamber… and I asked the other Shield-sisters how she was… apparently I was the first to do so… to talk on duty.”

“The others were probably too afraid.”  Vilkas said.  “Or too used to doing as they were told.” 

“A bit of both.”  Saadia greed.  “But I do know that if we cannot sway the Shield-maidens to our side, they will kill us all and continue to guard the mothers and beauties until my father is dead.” 

“So we have to get to the island, get past bandits, pirates and jungle,” He ticked things off on his fingers, “get past a huge stone wall, a moat and an army of men… only to come up against possibly the greatest army ever created.”

“Yes.”  Saadia answered, “and we also then have to kill my father, who will be well guarded and is no poor fighter.”

“No small task.”

“Then we have to get all the mothers, beauties and children safely off the island and somehow find homes for them…”  She sighed, rubbing her temples.

“How many mothers are there?”  He asked. 

“There are 444 mothers in each tower.”  She said.  Vilkas’s jaw dropped.

“This man has 1776 wives?”

“Yes and he beds all of them multiple times a year.”  She said, “He expects them all to birth a child every 2 years at a minimum.  Most of the wives bear a child every year.”

“By the Gods…” His mind started thinking over the logistics of such an endeavour.  “We’re going to need more than one ship…”

“Yes.”  She agreed. 

“But it must be done.”  He said.  “I’ll start planning it…”  His eyes went wide for a moment as he tried to think of a way to do this impossible task.

“That’s my job.”

“What are best friends for?”  He asked.  “You kill Dragons, I’ll plan this.”  He shook his head, “I’ll be as quick as I can… I can’t imagine what those women are going through.”

“Well for three quarters of the year it’s not too bad.”  She said, “he spends a quarter of each year attending each tower.  When he’s not visiting, it’s very peaceful… but during the months he’s there, the mothers… the wives… they are expected to be presentable at all times.  They must remove all the hair on their bodies from the eyebrows down, except for the Khajiit wives, of course.” 

“I don’t suppose he endured the same.”

“Of course not.  Women are for male enjoyment.”  She said.

“And I don’t suppose he knows how to penetrate a Khajiit woman without causing her great pain…”  Vilkas said sourly. 

“No…”  Saadia said softly, “I particularly remember their screams of pain.”  She looked down, “Why did it hurt them so?”

“Khajiit women have a spiralled kunte entrance.  Khajiit cocks are prehensile, so they can twist around the corkscrew.  If you’re not Khajiit there are things you can do to loosen up the spiral and allow pain-free penetration… but if you don’t do those things… it’s unbearably agonising for them.  It usually tears them up quite badly.”

“The Khajiit mothers suffered the most.”  She said, “Though they all suffered; he seemed to delight in hurting and humiliating them; giving them lists of things to do and rules to live by… They must stay slender, their breasts must not sag, their holes must stay tight, they must not have wrinkles or grey hairs… and no hair on their bodies unless they were Khajiit.”

“Not even on their kuntes?”

“No.”

“That would just be… strange…”  He pulled a face.  “To be surrounded by women with no hair at all on their kuntes… I mean of course I’ve seen shaved women before but… all of them…?”  He shook his head. 

“They must paint their faces and wear tight, binding corsets,”  Saadia continued, “their breasts spilling over the top… and they are not permitted to cover their lower halves, for their holes must always be available and on display to him.  And he went out of his way to make them scream in pain when he raped them…”

“I really don’t like this man…”

“And the children grew up seeing this… knowing that women are simply masturbatory aids for their father… and toys for him to hurt, and incubation chambers to his property; his children.  And we all knew we were all his property.  And the brothers have internalised this so completely; they see woman outside of the castle as something to fuck and nothing more, and they worship our father.” 

“They may all have to die.”  Vilkas said, grimacing; there’d be literally thousands of them.  “You say there were women outside of the castle?”

“Some bandits and pirates of course, but not many; it was a very man-orientated island.  But when the brothers raided Tamriel for wives for our father, they’d take dozens of girls and women, and my father would pick the ones he wanted and the rest would be given to the brothers as communal whores.” 

“By the Gods.”  Vilkas gritted his teeth, “Do you know how many of these women there are?”

“No… they never lasted long before one of the brothers went too far and killed them.”  Saadia looked down.  “A woman’s life was worth very little unless my father valued her beauty.”  She reiterated.  “Even then, if she displeased him, she would be killed… or perhaps given to the brothers.  And if a beauty wasn’t sold by a certain age, she’d be given to the brothers as well.”

“Your father is evil.”  Vilkas said, his skin crawling with disgust. 

“The mothers would be so hairy during the free months.”  She laughed softly, “And always covered completely… trying to counter what our father taught us… but in the end, we all knew he had the power, because the women would comply, no matter how much they hated it.  He could kill any one of us.” 

“And you will kill him.”  Vilkas said firmly.

“I hope so.”

“You will.”

“Right now all I can think about is how much I miss my mother.”  Saadia said sadly.  “I’ve been missing her for over half of my life.”  She turned her eyes to Vilkas, “Do you remember your mother?”

“Yes.  Very vaguely.”  He said sadly.  “She was killed by the necromancer… I remember her trying to shield us from him.”  He stared off for a long moment and Saadia scooted through the bath to sit closer, taking his hand.  He sighed and turned his eyes to her.  “I have this fear Shield-sister… I tell myself it can’t possibly be true… But sometimes I fear that the necromancer was our father…”

“Malkoran was a Breton who looks nothing like you.”  She said reassuringly.  Vilkas gave her a grateful smile.

“Thank you.” 

“I’m only telling you the truth.”  She said as she squeezed his hand.  “It must be hard to not know who your father was.”

“It must be hard to know your father is a monster.”  Vilkas returned. 

“Yeah.”  She said softly.

“Lucky we’re not defined by our parents.”  Vilkas told her.

“I like to think I have a lot of my mother in me.”  She said with a smile. 

“I like to think you’re all you.”  Vilkas countered.

“Why, I’ve probably got a bit of you in me!”  She said, acknowledging that he had influenced her.  And then her eyes opened wide and she laughed slightly, “That was unintentionally sexual…”  She said and Vilkas shook his head.

“No, I got what you meant.” 

“I need to watch my mouth.”  She said.  “The water is nice and hot now.”  She changed the topic. 

“Do we stay in here until we can’t bear the heat?”  He asked and she laughed.

“We both know I’ll win that competition.”  She said.

“A Redguard versus a Nord…”  He conceded defeat, “Although I hope your Nord half sweats!”  He laughed. 

“My mother would always tell me how hot it was in Hammerfell.”  Saadia said, “How vast the dessert was… how beautiful the cities, how kind and generous the people.”  She sighed.  “What else do you know about your childhood before the Companions?”

“Well as far as I can tell we’re from the Rift originally.”  Vilkas shrugged, “Based on reports of where Malkoran was at the time we were born.”  He said, “Possibly even Ivarstead.”  He sucked his teeth, “And that’s about it.” 

“Are you sure your father is dead?”  She asked, “He might be around still?”

“Might be… but how would I ever find him?”  Vilkas asked, “And I don’t care.  I have my life now, I don’t need the past to make my present.” 

“True.”  She agreed and laid back in the water.  Vilkas could feel the water moving around her body now that she was sitting so close.  “Do you think I can come on the next feral hunt?”

“Why?”  He asked, and she heard that this bothered him.

“I just want to see what a feral is like.”  Saadia said, “I’m not keen to kill werewolves or anything.” 

“I just…”  He sighed, “Of course, you need to see what it’s like.”

“You don’t want me to see it?”  She asked, looking at him, the water lapping at her face. 

“It’s… shameful.”  He said, “With us you’ve seen the best of werewolves.  With them… it’s the worst.”

“Well I should see the best and worst before I decide, don’t you think?”

“Yes you should.”  He said, “When you see a feral, and you understand that it’s a risk that you might become feral… it might change your mind.”

“I haven’t made my mind up yet.”

“Haven’t you?”  He asked and she sat up and looked at him.

“No.”  She said, “If I had I’d be… asking to drink your blood wouldn’t I?” 

“Unless you’re worried I’d be disappointed.”  He said gently. 

“Would you?”

“You’ve asked me this several times now…”  He said.

“And you’ve answered differently every single time.”  She returned.

“Because… how I feel about it changes.  It fluctuates.”

“Are you saying there’s a part of you that wants me to be turned?”  She asked and he sighed and closed his eyes.

“Gods help me,” He shook his head slightly and opened his eyes to meet hers, “But yes.”  There was a moment of silence before he dropped his eyes. 

“Because it would be easier…?”

“I don’t know.”  He said and sucked his teeth.  “You’d… know everything about…”

“About all of you.”  She finished his sentence.  “I’d be able to smell you as you smell me.” 

He gave a slight smile, his face unreadable.

“Perhaps it’s best that you never be turned.”  He said faintly. 

“No way!”  She laughed, “It’d be far too fun to be able to turn the tables on you!” 

“I am positive that there are some things that you do not want to know, Dragonborn.”  He said.

“I think you greatly underestimate how nosy I am.”  She said cheekily.  “Tell me something you think I don’t want to know…”

“All the times Farkas holds in a fart around you.”  Vilkas answered and they both laughed. 

“Can you smell that?”  She asked, her nose crinkling.

“Yeah.”  He sighed. 

“That would be the worst.”  But she laughed delightedly.  “What else?” 

“Oh I don’t know… when the old man gets aroused.”  Vilkas laughed.

“By the Gods!”  She said in shock and then burst out in laughter.  “Well I guess it’s comforting that you can be that old and still have some urges.”  She laughed.  “What else?” 

Vilkas groaned, still laughing, shaking his head.

“When Torvar wanks.”  He said and she laughed but shook her head.

“What happened to trying not to smell?”

“Well you’re the one asking!”  He noted.  “I do try not to smell, and I succeed a lot of the time.” 

“It would be interesting to be more in the know.”  She said still chuckling. 

“It is difficult to control.”  He reminded her.

“But Aela says that’s just because you deny yourself so much, and that really you’re most natural at being the wolf.”  She said and he sighed. 

“Aela probably shouldn’t talk on things she doesn’t know anything about.”  Vilkas said a little too sternly and Saadia cocked an eyebrow at him, but he was looking down, “She’s not me, she doesn’t know how well I took to the blood.” 

“Perhaps I didn’t understand what she was saying.”  Saadia said diplomatically.  “Perhaps I was just layering what I thought over the top of what she said.”  Vilkas narrowed his eyes but held his tongue.  “You’re not going to tell me not to speak out of turn?”  She asked sweetly.

“No.”  He answered sullenly. 

“Do you think I don’t know anything about it?”  She asked.

“You can’t know anything about it.”  He said gently, “But… I suppose I may have made it seem that way to you.”  He looked away, “By telling you that I love it… and that denying it is what knocks me around…”  He turned and looked at her, “But I would not have you believe that I’m a natural at being a Daedra’s plaything.” 

“Is that really what the Beastblood is?  Does Hircine toy with you?” 

“You’ve met a few Daedric Lords; what do you think?”  He asked pointedly.

“They like to make you their champions, don’t they?”  She asked wryly, “Whether you like it or not…” 

“Well you’re the champion of 2 Daedra now.”  He noted, “And I am… the cursed child of 1.” 

There was a moment of silence, Vilkas with his eyes down, Saadia staring hard at him.

“Ask me to get the Beastblood.”  She said softly. 

“I won’t.”  He didn’t look up. 

“Ask me to not get it.”

There was a silence and he looked up at her.

“I won’t.” 

There was another silence.

“But if it were your choice?”  She asked him again.

“I don’t know anymore.”  He said, “I fear what it will do to you… but… I also believe that if anyone can master Hircine and turn his curse to a gift… it’s you Dovahkiin.” 

Vilkas watched her eyes drop in thought. 

“Perhaps if I conquer him, I can release the old man…?”  She asked herself and Vilkas took a deep breath.  He had wondered that himself.  “Perhaps you’ll have the redemption you want… through me.”  She said to him.  “If I can turn this, wield this curse, as you call it… and make it something good…. Conquer a Daedric Lord…”

“You might be our salvation.”  He said, “Or we might be your destruction.”  He added.  “Or perhaps there is no cure, no way to master a Daedra, no way to be free of this… perhaps the cure has nothing to do with Hircine and has to do with how we were given this curse… I don’t know anything.”  He admitted, “And I don’t like not knowing anything.” 

“Give me the Beastblood.”  She said softly. 

Vilkas heard her heart beat faster, the minute the words left her mouth.  She was scared. 

“Alright.”  He said in a low voice, “As soon as we get out of this bath, I’ll take my dagger, and I’ll cut my forearm, and I’ll give you my blood… and you’ll turn… and I’ll try to get you to come back so you don’t turn feral.”  He said, “I’ll do it.”

“Why would you do it, when I can see that you’re against it?”  She asked.  “Because you won’t deny me anything…” She answered her own question, “But why?”

“Because… you’re my best friend.”  He said slowly. 

“You love me.”  She said, suddenly knowing it to be true. 

Vilkas’s heart stopped and he scoffed to cover his stunned expression.

“What?”  He asked, as if she were a fool.

“You do!”  She suddenly laughed, “Just like Kodlak and Farkas and Aela and Skjor do!  Maybe Skjor – who knows when it comes to SKjor…?”  She continued, “You all pretend to be so hard, but really you love me.”  She laughed and laid back in the water, grinning, and Vilkas’s heart started pumping again.  He gulped in some air and cleared his throat.

“Oh don’t looks so pleased with yourself.”  He said, noticing that his voice wavered slightly.  He cleared his throat again and swallowed, took another deep breath and kept his shaking hands under the water.  How did she affect him so much?  She closed her eyes and poked her tongue out at him, still grinning, sinking deeper into the water until her face was covered again.  “By Talos…”  He said to himself, “Watch it Vilkas.”  He was just starting to get his pulse under control when he remembered that he had actually agreed to turn her when they got out of the bath tub.  His stomach fell out and he shook his head; being around this woman was more nerve-wracking than jumping from Bard’s Leap Summit. 

She came back out of the water and sighed.

“It’s probably getting a bit too hot for you now.”  She teased, “Milk-drinker.”

“I can handle anything you’ve got woman.”  He said, resolutely leaning further back into the near scalding water. 

“The water will make your pale skin all red.”  She laughed and he shrugged.  “you’ll end up looking like a dried snowberry.”  She teased. 

“And I’ll still beat you.”  He said with narrowed eyes.  She laughed merrily and quite suddenly kissed his cheek, her naked chest pressing to his arm for a moment.  His whole body tensed up and he froze.  She noticed his reticence when it came to touching her and pulled back.

“I’m sorry.”  She said, “You just make me forget myself sometimes.” 

“No it’s fine…”  He said, “It’s just… controlling the wolf, you know.” 

“Oh of course!”  She understood.  “Sorry.”  She pulled an apologetic face and then stood up.  “I’m going to get out and rescue you, you fool.”  She said and waded across the water to get out.  He kept his eyes on the water and didn’t look up at her until he thought she might have her towel.  But she didn’t, she was actually bent over, grabbing his clothes off the floor.  His eyes fell to her round arse, her kunte peeking out from between her thighs and he had to hold his breath and look up at the roof, clenching his fists hard, every muscle tensed to stop the growl. 

“Do you want Jee-Tah to wash your clothes?”  She asked and he grunted in what he hoped was enough of an answer to appease her.  “I think you should probably leave some spare clothes here…”  She continued on, throwing his clothes into the washing basket, “That way you can use my bath whenever you want.”  She turned and saw him staring tensely at the ceiling as she grabbed a towel.  She laughed.  “Just get out you’ve proven your point.”  She said and wrapped the towel around herself, grabbing another towel for her hair, hanging lose and dripping wet down to her arse.  “I’ll see you out there.”  She said walking back out to see Llewellyn happily playing the lute and singing about hunting elks.  “Take a break.”  She said.

“Of course.”  Llewellyn said and retreated back upstairs. 

Vilkas growled now that she was out of earshot, his eyes amber, his desire for her burning in his veins.  He had never known a person to be so unaware of her body as she was.  She knew so many things, especially how to fight, but she was utterly clueless in other regards.  He knew that she had no idea of what she had just done; showing him so much of herself… He knew she wouldn’t deliberately do that, because she knew of the wolf…  He thought of her childhood; but of course she’d have no clue how her body looked to others in regards to sex and sexuality.  She had been denied that part of herself for so many years. 

He got out of the bath, painfully aware of his semi-erection, concerned she might walk in at any moment.  He grabbed a towel and dried off quickly, wrapping the towel around himself and sitting down at the table in the great hall immediately.  She was nowhere to be seen. 

A few moments later she came back down wearing a simple tunic that was lose and thin and came part way down her thighs.  She was still drying her hair, but she had a wide-toothed comb and some nut oil as well as a tunic for Vilkas. 

“Jee-Tah left a tunic out for you!”  She looked perplexed, “I have no idea where he got it from…”  She shook her head. 

“I thought he’d already gone to Riverwood?” Vilkas said taking the tunic from her.

“Me too!”  She shrugged. 

“I didn’t know how to drain the bath.”  He said, realising he’d left it full.

“Me either.”  She said, “I know it drains out onto the fields though.” 

“Faendal is quite remarkable.”  He said appreciatively. 

“Jee-Tah will see to it.”  Saadia said, “I don’t where I’d be without him; Camilla did a good job hiring him.” 

“Thank you, honoured land-strider.”  He said as he came into the room with a basket full of ingredients and items.  “I have returned from Riverwood.”

“Already?”  Vilkas was surprised. 

“I swam most of the way, and met Gunjar on the road running the horses.”  He explained.  “It made for a much quicker journey both ways, as he came to Riverwood with me, and we galloped home.” 

“Wow, we were in the bath for a long time.”  Saadia gave Vilkas a grin.

“I shall clean it out for you.”  Jee-Tah bowed his head. 

“Thank you.”  Saadia said.

“Yeah thanks!”  Vilkas said as he looked through the basket.  “Alright so we’re starting with Lucia?”  He asked.  “Ankle?”

“Yes I think so.”  She said and he pulled his chair out and motioned for her to put her foot up on his lap.  She put her right foot on his lap and, after a brief hesitation, Vilkas gently placed his hands on her.  She watched him as he stared at her foot and ankle intently, his fingers running over the skin, feeling the contours of her bony ankle. 

“Inside or outside?”  His voice was so focussed.

“Well I was thinking inside for protection of her… but then outside so she can see the world…”  Saadia sighed.  “I think maybe outside.  I want her to be protected, but also strong and forward thinking.”

“Then perhaps put her on the front of your ankle.”  Vilkas suggested, his thumb slipping over the front of her ankle. 

“Perfect.”  She answered softly, her eyes on his fingers.  The way he gently touched her was somehow fascinating.  He nodded and turned to the paper Jee-Tah had provided.  He wrote down Lucia’s name in a strong, but beautiful script and showed it to her.  “I like that.”

“Alright…”  He said and looked back at her ankle; clearly envisioning it.  “I tend to free-cut, rather than meticulously plan.”  He said, “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Makes it more artistic, I think.”

“That’s what I’ve been told.”  He answered and took a small, very sharp knife out of the basket.  It looked like the kind of tool a tanner might use to flay very delicate skin from a small animal.  Delicate and deadly sharp.  “What colour?” 

“Green.”  She asked and he took out some ingredients, crushing them in her mortar and pestle, adding some water and oil, making a thick ink with them.  She watched him make 7 shades of green and then sit down.  She looked at them, expecting to pick which one she liked best.  But he didn’t ask her. 

“This will hurt.”  He said as he gently, but firmly held her foot.  He applied the knife to her skin and made a shallow cut, blood instantly flowing.  It hurt, but Saadia found that it was easily manageable. 

“You better be quick; Kynareth’s Kiss heals up the shallow wounds quickly.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”  He said, completely focussed on what he was doing. 

She watched him carved Lucia’s name into her skin, using all 7 shades of green to create a gentle shading; a colour gradient in green. 

“I hope Kynareth’s Kiss will let me have tattoos.”  Saadia said with a frown. 

“I’d tell you how to care for the wound, but I have a feeling it’ll be healed in no time.”  He said.

She looked down at her daughter’s name sitting on her ankle above the place where it curved into the top of her foot.  The size and placement was perfect and the shading of the green was exquisite. 

“That’s amazing.”  She said looking down at it, and he gave a small happy smile in response.

“I’m glad you like it.”

“You’re an artist.”  She said, utterly amazed at the skill put into a single word.

“So the wolf?”  He asked as he started to make more inks.  Saadia unlaced her tunic and let it drop off one shoulder. 

It was strange; Vilkas had seen her completely naked, but the act of bearing her shoulder – her shoulder!  He had to take a deep breath and look away from a moment. 

“On my chest like yours of me.”  She said, still undoing the lacing, the shirt dropping lower. 

“Do you mind if I free draw it… and take some liberties?”  He asked.

“Well since it’s you, I suppose I don’t mind.”  She said with a grin. 

His fingers hovered over her chest for a moment before very gently touching; more of a caress than his fingers had been on her ankle.  She watched his face, his jaw clenched tightly in concentration. 

“Perfect.”  He said softly.

“Huh?”  She asked and he looked up at her.

“Perfect… canvas.”  He elaborated. 

“So what kind of liberties are you going to take?”  She asked as he gently moved her shirt further down, his eyes on her skin. 

“All sorts.”  He said with a cheeky grin.  She chuckled.  “What are you willing to let me do?” 

“You’re sounding very suggestive there.”  She laughed.

“I haven’t had sex today, what do you expect?”  he joked.

“Me either!”  She laughed, “We’re doomed.” 

Vilkas chuckled and looked to his inks, checking all the colours and making a few more as they spoke. 

“I’ll just make him a little more… protective.”  Vilkas said, explaining the changes he wanted to make to the wolf as he knelt down in front of her, between her thighs.

“I want him to be safe.”  She said softly.

“And he is.”  Vilkas said as his fingers went back to her chest.

“I want to keep him safe…”  Saadia clarified. 

“And you do.  But he should also keep you safe.” 

“I like that.”  Saadia agreed. 

“So it’ll just be a few small changes.” 

“I trust you completely.”  Saadia said and his eyes flicked up to hers. 

“To be the kind of man that you could trust completely has been a goal of mine for a while now.”  He confessed in a low voice.

“Well you are.  Goal accomplished.” 

“No…”  He said softly, “Not yet I don’t think.  There’s just…”  He stopped and lowered his eyes.

“I get to choose who I trust.”  Saadia said firmly. 

“Of course.”  He said as he carefully put the blade to her skin. 

Camilla walked in before Vilkas had had a chance to cut Saadia’s skin.

“Saadia!  Farkas…?  No, Vilkas!”  She said when she took a better look.  “I’m so glad you’re here, I have a prospective tutor for Lucia, and I think she’s perfect!”  She said and stepped aside for the woman behind her to be seem.  “This is Lynly-”

“From Ivarstead!”  Saadia said with a huge grin, Vilkas looking from Saadia to Lynly.  There was an incredible chemistry between the 2 women that stoked his arousal.  “I had no idea you were a qualified tutor?”

“Not qualified yet, but I was given the best education by my family, and I am only a few lessons off being qualified… I just can’t afford them…”  She confessed.

“She doesn’t have the paperwork to prove it, but her knowledge is vast; Faendal and I have been quizzing her for the past hour.”  Camilla said and Saadia furrowed her brows.

“It’s under a different name?”  Saadia said astutely, remembering a few things Lynly had said and making an educated guess.  Lynly looked at Vilkas, still between Saadia’s legs, looking over his shoulder at her, and then Camilla.  “You can trust the people you find in this house as much as you trust me.”  Saadia said simply. 

“Yes.”  She said softly, “I can’t have anyone knowing my true name.”  She whispered. 

Camilla looked shocked, but Saadia had no concerns; she knew what kind of a person Lynly was. 

“That’s fine.”  Saadia said and looked to Camilla, “If you think Lynly is an appropriate tutor, and if Lucia and Lydia approve, then I find her to be an excellent choice.”

“Oh good!”  Camilla said happily, her shock forgotten. 

“Can you both go out to Whiterun now to speak with them?”

“Of course!”  Camilla said readily, “I’ll get Gunjar to prepare the carriage.”  She said and gave Lynly a happy smile. 

“Ask Gunjar if he wants Svali to be tutored as well?”  She said and Camilla nodded.  “Your wages will reflect that you are tutoring 2 children.”  She said to Lynly, “Should you get the job.”

“The advertised wages are already very generous.”  Lynly responded.  “Thank you for not asking why I changed my name.”  She added softly.

“I think I have a good idea why.”  Saadia said, “And it’s no one’s business but yours.  But if you are ever made safe again, you should change it back; your name is part of your identity.”

“I will.”  Lynly said simply, “But I doubt a day will ever come when that can happen.”

“Maybe I’ll make that day come.”  Saadia answered and Lynly gave her an appreciative smile that quickly turned into a smile that showed a great deal of appreciation for more than just Saadia’s warrior prowess.  But she flicked her eyes to Vilkas, who was now looking at Saadia’s face as the 2 women talked. 

“A Wolf brother.”  Lynly said and bent down to touch his cheek.  “But not the one that tried to bed me… you must be Vilkas.” 

“Tried to bed you…?”  Vilkas said and was suddenly amused, “You’re the one that said no to him…?”  He nodded appreciatively.  Farkas had talked to him in length about that moment. 

“I very rarely bed with men… almost never in fact.  And he was too cocky about his sex.”  She said, “He knew he could get it… I don’t like that…”  She ran a finger down his cheek.  “But you’re definitely not like your brother… you’re the kind of man who looks at a beautiful woman, and rather than try to get in her pants, you wonder if she wouldn’t just prefer to be left alone… aren’t you?”  She said and Vilkas’s eyes opened up with surprise at how well and how quickly she had read him.  “You have respect.”  She said slowly and turned her eyes to Saadia.  “And you’re right Vilkas, this would be an excellent threesome…”

“What?”  Vilkas choked out.

“One I’d even allow myself to bed with a man for.”  Lynly said her hand going to Saadia’s thigh. 

“Oh Vilkas doesn’t want to fuck me.”  Saadia said chuckling, “He’s just about to tattoo me.”  She realised the positon they were in looked overtly sexual. 

“I think you’d be better served with my brother.”  Vilkas noted and looked down, sucking his teeth. 

Lynly looked from Saadia to Vilkas.

“I see…”  She said slowly and Vilkas looked up at her, “Yes, I see.”  She nodded, “My mistake…”  She stood up, a strange smile on her face.  “Unfortunately, you and your brother might look alike, but he is nowhere near as attractive as you.”  Lynly said, “So alas, this threesome can never be.”  She said with a wistful tone. 

“I’m sure you’ll survive!”  Saadia laughed. 

“I’m sure I will!”  Lynly agreed, “Perhaps it shall always be just the one man I have bedded.”  She said, “Pity it was a man that did not deserve that honour.” 

“I can kill him for you.”  Saadia said with a grin and Lynly shook her head.

“I’ve already told you his family is too powerful.” 

Saadia was about to respond when Camilla returned.

“Gunjar’s ready and Rayya and Faendal are going to come with us to ensure our safety on the road.”  Camilla said, “It’ll be a fun journey!  Do you want me to bring Lucia back with me?”

“No leave her there for her lessons.”  Saadia looked back at Lynly, “If she likes you, when will you be able to start?”

“Probably a week or 2?”  Lynly answered.

“Give it 3 weeks, just to be sure, and Lucia will stay in Whiterun for all of that, for her lessons.”  Saadia told Camilla, “Then she can move out here.”  She looked back at Lynly, “Have you seen your room?”

“Yes Camilla has shown me; it’s lovely!” 

“Excellent.”  Saadia said and turned her eyes back to Vilkas, “I think we’re all ready to continue now.”  She declared.

“We’ll be back tomorrow morning.”  Camilla said as they left. 

“Glad to have that sorted out.”  Saadia said. 

“It doesn’t bother you that she has a false name?”  Vilkas asked.

“I was going to take a false name, so how can I judge her for doing it?  But I decided that I couldn’t; my mother gave me this name… it’s a part of me.”

“I understand.”  Vilkas said, “My mother named us.”  He said, “She told me that…”  He furrowed his brow; the memory was fuzzy, “That she took words from some ancient languages… and named us after her favourite animals?”  He said and then shrugged.  “I think.”

“You should find out which languages.”

“I might try.”  He said honestly, “If I ever finish my study of the Dragonborn’s mythology and the myths surrounding Kynareth and her blessings.” 

“You don’t have to keep studying things about me.”  She said.

“I’m hoping I’ll find something that can help you.”  He said with a shrug.  “Anyway.”  He put his attention back to the blade.

“Tell me about the woman you love.”  She said before he had made a cut.

“Love?”  He said with a sceptical tone.

“Well, she’s the most beautiful woman in all of Mundus, surely you must love her!”  Saadia teased and Vilkas shook his head and began cutting her skin. 

“She is the most beautiful being, in all of Mundus, all the plains of Oblivion and all the realms of Aetherius; there is none to match her.  But that does not mean I love her.”  He said, his attention focussed on the tiny, careful cuts he was making.  “Love requires a lot more than beauty.”

“Uh-huh.”  Saadia said sceptically.  “I think you’re just telling yourself that.”

He sighed and stopped working to look at her.

“It’s not that I love her… it’s just that I want what I can’t have.”  He said firmly, “This ache for her will pass.”  He said determinedly. 

“Ah yes, Farkas told me that you always want what you can’t have ten times as much.”  She said with a cheeky grin.  “And I could believe that of him; he’s more impulsive than you… I don’t believe that you’d be sucked in by wanting what you can’t have.  I think you really love her.  Or at least have strong feelings for her.”  Saadia said stubbornly. 

“Suppose I did love her, suppose I chased after her; what then?”  He asked, “There are 2 options, she sees that I am not worthy of her and rightly says no.”  He said, “Or she is a fool and says yes.”

“That’s not fair.”  Saadia said, “To you or her.”

“She says yes.”  Vilkas continued, “Then what?”  He shrugged, “I’m not particularly interested in marriage, nor is she… so what?  What is the point of going after her as you would have me do?”

“Relationships don’t have to end in marriage.”  She said and he made a face that acknowledged what she was saying but still couldn’t see the point of chasing this woman.

“What kind of relationship could I possibly have with her?”  He said, his eyes turning down as he genuinely thought about that.  “I’m happy with my life as it is.”  He said firmly.  “Besides, she loves another.”  He shrugged and focussed his eyes back on his work. 

“Alright I’ll drop it.”  She said, seeing how frustrated he was with this discussion.  “But I will not drop this ridiculous notion that you have that you’re not good enough for her.”  Saadia was completely convinced that he was talking about Aela now. 

“Sometimes the way you think about me makes me think that maybe I am worthy.”  He said softly, “But then I remember who it is I raise my eyes to.”  He sighed, “I do not think myself below many people, but those that I do, have earned that deep respect.”  He said. 

“Perhaps you have earned her respect?”  Saadia tried to hint; remembering that Aela had indeed told her that she respected Vilkas. 

“Aye, I have.  And her trust.”  He said, “But I deserve neither.”  He said sadly, “If she knew…”  He shook his head, “She doesn’t know everything about me, and if she did, I’m not sure she could even look at me.” 

“But-”

“I need to focus on my work; Kynareth’s Kiss has already healed my first cuts.”  He said gently, “We will, no doubt, discuss this later.”  He was resigned to his fate. 

“You know, I think you’re right; you don’t love her.”  Saadia said slightly bitingly and Vilkas raised his eyes to hers, surprised.  “You can’t love someone that you practically worship.  You say she doesn’t know everything about you and if she did she wouldn’t be able to look at you… but have you ever considered that you don’t know everything about her?  That you don’t know her darkness?  You assume that you are the only one with deep, dark secrets Vilkas – but you’re not.  We all have them.  And until you can see her as a whole and complete Human, neither above you or below you, with her own weaknesses, and dark secrets – just like you… you couldn’t possibly truly love her.” 

There was a moment of silence, Vilkas looked actually hurt by her words but he nodded slowly.

“Well, I guess you’ve just proven my point for me.”  He said sourly, returning to his work. 

There was a long silence between them, Saadia staring at the wall while Vilkas worked on her tattoo. 

“Are best friends allowed to fight?”  She said softly after a long time.  He looked up at her and saw she was upset.  “I’m sorry; it’s not for me to say what you feel.” 

“No, you’re right.”  Vilkas said, “I’ve put her up on a pedestal.”  He sighed, “But she deserves it.  So don’t get too cocky about being right…”  He added and she gave him a small smile.  “And best friends are able to fight, and remain best friends.  It’s a particular quality of the closeness of the friendship.”  She put her arms around his neck and pulled him in for a hug.  Vilkas hesitated before wrapping his arms around her waist, her thighs pressing into his sides, her head nuzzling into his neck.  And as sexual as the moment was, and as good as she smelled… Vilkas found he could focus on the comfort of the hug.  He smiled, and held her tightly, truly enjoying her touch without concern for the first time.  “I’m sorry.”  He whispered to her, “I get too stubborn and too sour and too cantankerous.”  He said and she shook her head.

“I get too insistent and stubborn and nosy.”  She countered. 

“No it’s not your fault… you’re just being a good friend, a good Shield-sister, wanting me to be happy.  And I am happy, okay?”

“Okay.” 

“Now come on; I’m never going to outrace Kynareth’s Kiss if we keep this up.”  He said with a grin and she pulled out of the hug and gave him a guilty smile.  He gave her a reassuring smile and looked down at the tattoo, “Already starting to heal.”  He marvelled. 

“Do you wish you had the Kiss?”

“Beastblood is pretty good for healing.”  He said, “But not this fast…”  He shook his head and began to cut her skin again, carefully layering in the ink as he went.  “I wouldn’t mind having it.” 

“The Kiss itches so bad when it’s doing its thing.”  She told him and he cocked an eyebrow, still working.

“Small price to pay.”  He opined.

“Agreed.” 

It was some time before he was finished, Jee-Tah coming in with candles for light, and letting them know there would be dinner when they were ready; but Vilkas focussed on every small stroke of the blade, wanting it to be perfect.

When he was done, he said they should eat so it was healed up by the time she looked at it.

Llewellyn sang, Jee-Tah served them food and they laughed and sang along with Llewellyn, drinking enough to become a little tipsy. 

When she finally looked in a handheld looking glass at the tattoo it was almost completely healed. 

She breathed in sharply, utterly entranced by Vilkas’s work; every strand of fur on the wolf was carefully drawn, given it the look of real fur, like if she touched it, it would be furry.  And the colours matched Vilkas’s werewolf fur perfectly.  She ran her fingers along the slightly raised lines of the tattoo.  The wolf was still curled up, at rest, safe, but his head was raised, looking out at the world, looking at anyone who looked at her, weighing them, challenging them.  The wolf’s eyes were stunning; black irises ringed with blue exactly the shade of Vilkas’s, but bleeding into the blue was the ring of amber that surrounded that; the gleam of the wolf.  The picture was far more intricate than what she had shown him, and far less passive, but it was still so much like what she had given him.

“It’s perfect.”  She said softly, “Beautiful.”  She said looking closer at the fine line work.  “How did you do these tiny, thin lines?”  She marvelled.

“That’s why it took so long.”  He said, “And why I was rubbing my knees under the table for most of dinner.  I definitely respect wenches more now.”  He said with a laugh.  Saadia rolled her eyes at him and they both laughed, but she looked back at the tattoo, her fingers going back to it.

“So you’re a bard, and an artist…”  She said.

“Yeah, I’m the soft one.”  He chuckled, “That’s the joke.” 

“And it’s funny because you’re actually the harder one.”  She said and he nodded. 

“Yes.”  He answered.  “By far.”  Thinking of Farkas’s tendency to feel bad about killing animals that had offspring. 

“Well I think you can be both.”  She said and took a sip of mead.  “A man of contradictions.” 

“Once again, you give me too much credit, Dovahkiin.”  He said with a grin, his eyes on the tattoo, “But I did do good work.”  He said, his fingers going to the tattoo.  “I hope you never regret having me tattoo you.”  He said. 

“I hope you never regret having me tattooed on your chest!”  She said with a laugh. 

“Impossible.”  He said, his other hand going to his chest, where under his clothes, the Dragon tattoo symbolising Saadia lay. 

Llewellyn started to sing a love ballad and they laughed, shaking their heads. 

“I think every time I show the slightest bit of kindness towards a man, everyone thinks I’m going to marry him.”

“Everyone is very interested in you finding a man – not a woman… which is unlike Nords.  But people want you to breed.”  He said apologetically.  She rolled her eyes.

“To pass on the Dragon Blood?”

“Yes.”

“There’s a small problem with that.”  She said.

“According to prophecy you’re the last Dragonborn.” 

“I have no intention of ever bearing a child.”  Saadia corrected.  “Maybe that’s why I’m the last one!”  She laughed, “But there’s no evidence it’s hereditary anyway, so I don’t care.”  She shrugged and then laughed at the way he pursed his lips.  “Why do you think it’s hereditary?”  She asked.

“I don’t think Dragon Blood in general is hereditary, I think yours is.”  He said, “There is some evidence that the line of Talos did have hereditary Dragon Blood.”  He said earnestly, “And he’s a God, so I feel that he made sure his bloodline continued until it was needed… perhaps your line is the product of a bastard child of Talos’s or something…”  He sighed.

“You’re reaching.”  She said and he nodded.

“I know.”  He said, “but I feel it in my gut – you are a descendant of Talos.” 

“Well…” She said thoughtfully, “I don’t really care.”  She shrugged.  “But doesn’t it irk you to think that my father would then also be a descendant of your God?”  She asked pointedly.

“What makes you think it’s your father that passed it on to you?”  He asked, equally as pointed.

“Because Talos was a Nord and so is my father.” 

“Talos united all of Tamriel.”  Vilkas pointed out, “I wouldn’t be surprised if a beautiful Redguard woman caught his eye…” 

“Well my mother does come from a long line of exceptionally proud, exceptionally fierce and exceptionally beautiful Redguard women.”  Saadia said, “I wouldn’t blame anyone who’s eye was caught by a woman like my mother.”  She said simply. 

“You do know that you are like your mother, don’t you?”  He asked gently.

“You don’t know my mother…”

“No but I know your father.  I know men like him… You can’t possibly imagine you’re like him, do you?”  Vilkas asked and she paused, looking at him for a moment, feeling all sorts of emotions in the wake of that question.

“Sometimes I’m afraid I am.”  She said.  “But… no.  I’m not like him, am I?”

“No, you’re not.” 

The smile on Saadia’s face; as if seeing herself for the first time, was stunning. 

“It’s nice to think of myself as being like my mother.”  Saadia said.

“Honoured Saadia,” Jee-Tah said as he entered the great hall, “I have made a selection of deserts for you and your honoured gentleman friend.  Would you like to sample them now?” 

“Yes please!”  Saadia said, the grin still on her face.  Vilkas felt a swelling in his chest; to have been able to help put that smile on her face was an accomplishment he would always feel proud of.  It was a deeply genuine, content and proud smile… something he didn’t see enough of on her face.  There was always an undertone with Saadia; always stress, worry, fear, guilt, shame… but not this time.  This time she was 100% happy, even if only for a few moments.  He unabashedly stared at her smiling face as she watched Llewellyn sing the gorgeous love song.  Vilkas didn’t even notice how Llewellyn noticed his staring, how Jee-Tah saw it as he served them deserts, how the servants shared a smile; he was too caught up in that smile on her face.  To see her truly happy like this was wholly remarkable to him, and he could have stared at her smiling face for hours without a thought entering his head.  He felt at peace. 

When she turned to look at him, he made no attempt to hide that he had been staring at her, but instead gave her a content smile, which only made her smile more.  And his heart yearned for her.  She looked at the food, making a selection, and still he stared.

It wasn’t until she asked him what he would have that he managed to look away. 

“I think I will have a bit of everything.”  He said looking at the selection of pies and cakes.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you eat a pie or cake before!”  Saadia said, trying to think back to all the times they’d eaten together; Vilkas always ate meat, vegetables, cheese, fruits and bread.  She’d never seen him eat anything else. 

“I have quite a thing for sweet rolls.”  He said with a cheeky grin.  “I just prefer meat though, to be honest.” 

“Same.”  Saadia agreed, “But I do love some chocolate.” 

“I haven’t had that…”

“It’s from Hammerfell.”  She said, “Belethor started getting it in when Iman and I showed up!”  She laughed.

“Man knows how to make a market doesn’t he?”  Vilkas shook his head.

“My mother talked about how much she loved it when she was growing up in Rihad.”  She told him, “I was glad to find that I like it too!”

“Do you think you’ll go to Rihad?”

“Yes.  When I take my mother home.” 

“You’ll have to come back; to kill Alduin.”  Vilkas said, trying to not think of the possibility of never seeing her again.

“Oh mum will have to stay in Skyrim until Alduin is dead.”  Saadia said, “Priorities, you know?”  She said, “I’ll free her as soon as possible.  But I can’t be away from Skyrim for too long.  Not at the moment.” 

“It’s 2 days hard ride on a good horse to Cyrodiil’s capital.”  He said, “Probably 3 or 4 to the coast, get a ship to Stros M’Kai…”  Vilkas was thinking out loud.

“Why Stros M’Kai?”  She asked, confused; It was further off land than Stirk was.

“Going to have to buy more ships… and there’s a good business for boat buying there.”  He said, thinking of how they were going to raise the coin to buy some boats.

“We could steal some.”  She said and he narrowed his eyes slightly, “From pirates.”  He nodded. 

“Good idea.”  That was one problem solved.  “Then on to Stirk… where the real challenges arise.” 

“I am quite determined.”  
“Oh we’ll do it.”  Vilkas said, “It’ll just need some careful planning.”

“Thank you for helping.”  She said, “Now eat something sweet.”  She gifted him another smile, but there was worry under it; she was also trying to figure out how they would ever get into her father’s castle. 

They ate in silence, Jee-Tah keeping their mugs filled, Llewellyn playing the lute, both of them making little sounds of enjoyment; the food was good, just as everything Jee-Tah made was. 

By the time they had finished eating, Llewellyn was singing bawdy tales of adventurers, Jee-Tah was stoking the fire and their heads were delightfully swimming with alcohol. 

“Come up to bed?”  Saadia asked when she was tired.

“Oh… I’ll sleep down here, it’s fine.”  He said.  She leaned in to him, her movements slightly less coordinated than usual.

“I heard you and Aela saying it was the most comfortable bed either of you had ever been in.”  She said in a tempting voice.

“Good point.”  He said and stood up, “Come on then.” 

She got up and he followed her upstairs, Jee-Tah and Llewellyn sharing a grin, before they began the task of cleaning up for the night.  Llewellyn often helped Jee-Tah in the evenings; the two men had become fast friends. 

Vilkas looked up at Saadia as they went up the stairs.  She looked back at him as they walked along the upstairs balcony to the stairs up to her room. 

The drunken humour they had previously had was suddenly gone, they both seemed serious, but still smiling at each other. 

They climbed the stairs to Saadia’s room, and she closed the door behind him. 

“Which side do you want?”  She asked, oddly sombre, their eyes meeting.

“Which side do you normally have; I’ll take the other.”

“I normally sleep right down the middle.”  She said and laughed.  He laughed too, their eyes not moving off each other. 

“Well… it’s your bed; I’ll work around you.”  He said.

They both walked to opposite sides of the big bed, their eyes meeting over the somehow intimidating expanse. 

Saadia took a breath and pulled back the blankets, Vilkas pausing for a moment, and then mirroring her, both of them climbing into the comfortable bed. 

It would be easy for them to stay on their sides of the bed, making no contact at all. 

But Saadia scooted across the bed.

“This is where I usually sleep.”  She said, her head on the edge of her pillow, her knees pulled up, facing him. 

“Right there?”  He asked as he matched her, scooting across the bed, his tunic pulling uncomfortably; he was used to sleeping naked when in a bed. 

“Well sometimes a little closer to the middle.”  She said honestly, “But this is close enough.”

“No, I insist you sleep where you normally would.”  He said, “I don’t want to put you out.” 

She edged forward until her knees touched his, and pulled her pillow across so that their faces were only inches apart.

“I feel like we should either kiss or tell secrets.”  Saadia said, “When I was a little girl, me and my favourite sister, Nesila, would lie like this and whisper to each other.”  She said in a low voice. 

“Well I can whisper to you if you like?”  He said softly, his breath warm on her face, their eyes locked.  “Or you could tell me what happened to Nesila?”

“She was a beauty.  She was trained and sold when she was 14 to a husband from Valenwood.”  She said, “I got news from the other Shield-maidens.  I’ll likely never see her again.” 

“Maybe after you kill Alduin, we can go to Valenwood and find her?”

“You’d come with me?”

“Of course.”  He answered.

“I could try and find all of the beauties; free them.”  She sighed, “It would be impossible… unless he kept records of where he sold them all.” 

“How do the sales go down?” 

“Men arrive on the island by appointment, and they are entertained at the castle for a few nights, the beauties all showcasing their skills.”  She answered, “Then they go to the highest bidder.  And those that aren’t sold wait until next appointment.  They’re usually monthly.”

“Remind what happens if no one buys them?”

“If by 15 or 16 they haven’t been bought he gives them to the local inns or the brothers as wenches.”  Saadia answered and she watched as Vilkas’s eyes dropped; she knew that look on his face.  “You’ve got a plan?”

“I’m forming a plan.”  He answered, “Let me sleep on it… and think about it when I’m sober.”  He added with a guilty grin. 

“What’s the most foolish thing you’ve done when drunk?”  She asked.

“Oh that’s a long list!”  He laughed.  “I used to have a friend, Brynjolf, and we got absolutely shit-faced and nearly got married.  We organised it and went to the temple and put out the notices; all completely drunk.” 

“How does that even happen?”  She asked.

“He had some sort of scheme that needed him to be married.”  Vilkas shook his head, “He always had some sort of scheme.” 

“Why aren’t you friends anymore?”

“He acted dishonourably.”  Vilkas said sadly.

“He didn’t meet your high standards?”  She teased. 

“He joined the Thieves Guild in Riften.”  Vilkas said.

“There’s a guild for being a thief?”  She was surprised.

“There is.”  He looked thoroughly disgusted.

“Well I might just join them now; just to tease you.”  She said cheekily.

“Don’t even joke about that.” 

She moved slightly closer.

“Do you have any idea how wonderful it is to make you squirm?”  She said with a huge grin. 

“Well given you take such delight in it, it must be a true gift to the world.”  He answered with narrowed eyes.

“Oh it is.”  She moved a little more closer and felt his hands under the blankets.  She took them and grinned at him.  “Tell me more about your drunken foolishness.”

“I want to hear about what you and your sister talked about in bed together.”  He replied. 

“She would talk about dogs… her mother had taught her about dogs; apparently, she had been in a family that made its money breeding dogs.”  Saadia said, “And I would try to imagine what the world was like outside of the castle walls, based on everything the mothers had told us.  I’d tell her stories about the outside world…” 

“Tell me a story.” 

“There was a young Argonian spawnling, growing up in… Greenspring, and she wanted to be a potter.”  Saadia said, “She would play in the mud, creating the most beautiful bowls and cups… only to have them disappear with the rain.  She would watch them disintegrate and remember that even the most beautiful things could never last forever; nothing lasts forever.”  Vilkas watched her speaking, remembering an old story she once told her favourite sister, “Her mother would scold her and tell her to be realistic; she would be a blacksmith, as all the girls in her family had always been.”  Saadia continued, “She would say, ‘child of mine, how I love thee – but you will not be a potter!’”  Saadia laughed, “No one speaks like that… but that’s how everyone spoke in my stories.”  Saadia told him as an aside, “Anyway, the little girl knew she had to stay true to herself, so she left home.  She went out into the world alone, scared, but ready to meet her fate; and so must we, sister – or in your case Shield-brother, overcome our fears and face the world and our fates with our heads held high.”  Saadia said, waiting for him to do what her sister always had done.

“But what happened to the girl?”  Vilkas asked, making Saadia grin in satisfaction; that’s what Nesila had always done. 

“She had many adventures, some of them welcome, others not, and travelled all over Tamriel.”  She answered.  “Which of them would you like to hear?”

“Did she become a potter?”

“Of course she did… eventually.”  Saadia said with a wicked smile. 

“So it’s a long story?”

“It is.”  Saadia answered, “As long as life itself.”

“You must have kept your sister very entertained.”

“You make it sound better than it was.”  She said, “I was just trying to be brave; to save myself from weeping constantly.”

“It matters not what your motives are; what matters is what your deeds are.”  He answered. 

“So it’s ok if I do good deeds, even if my motives are evil?” 

“Yes.”  He said firmly.

“Similar to you doing all these good deeds with that terrible evil curse of yours.”  She answered. 

“You don’t give up, do you?” 

“Not on you.”  She answered, “You’re my best friend, and I would have you see yourself as I see you.” 

“Then perhaps one day I will.”  He said.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice that you conveniently forgot to give me the blood when we got out of the bath.”  She said.

“I merely awaited your request.”  He answered.

“Then do it now.”  She said.

“That would be a bad idea.”  He answered.

“Because you never intended to go through with it.”

“Because we’re both a little drunk.  And I have learned that it is best not to act on impulse when drunk.”  He answered. 

“But I wasn’t drunk when I asked for it.”  She pressed.

“But turning a person for the first time when drunk is a guarantee of ending up with a feral.”  He answered, “That was one of the foolish things my brother did when he was drunk… believe me when I say that hunting down and killing one of his best friends certainly sobered us up.” 

“Oh…” 

“When we first got the blood… Farkas got drunk with one of his closest friends, told him about the Beastblood, and when his friend wanted it… took him to the Underforge and turned him.  In his drunken state, his Human blood couldn’t compete with the Beastblood… and he went feral.”  Vilkas paused for a moment, “When he told Skjor and Kodlak… they made Farkas hunt him down and kill him; to make sure he had learned the lesson.”  Vilkas said, “I went along with him to make sure he didn’t get himself killed.  And I’m glad I did… it was a hard time for him.  But he definitely learned the lesson; he hasn’t even considered turning another person since then.” 

“I didn’t realise what a heavy burden… a huge responsibility it is to turn someone.”  She said softly, her hand going to his cheek, gently brushing back his hair, “That you’re willing to do that for me…”

“I will never deny you anything you want, woman.”  He said with a deep intensity in his eyes. 

They were both aware of the way their heads moved slowly closer, their lips parting, their eyes burning with desire, Saadia’s fingers tangled in Vilkas’s hair. 

But they both stopped; both of them aware that they were both drunk, and it was always best not to act on impulses when drunk. 

They stayed close, their breaths mingling, desire beating in their chests, both looking at the other’s lips, their foreheads slowly coming together until they touched. 

“Why do you deny me nothing?”  She was surprised at how breathless she felt.

“Because it’s not my place to make your decisions for you.”  He answered in the same breathless voice. 

She swallowed back her desire to just kiss him and took her hand off his face, returning it to his hands, licking her lips, the desire she felt for him growing with every passing moment. 

“Does alcohol always have this effect on people.”  She asked, the tone of desire obvious in her voice.

“In my experience it often does.”  He raised his hand and stopped his fingertips just millimetres from the smooth skin of her cheek, tracing his fingers through the air, so close to touching her.  Eventually he let his fingers gently touch a few strands of her hair, a groan catching in his throat. 

“And it’s… always bad to act on impulses when drunk…?”  She asked. 

“Always.”  He answered, but she heard the desire in his tone.  Her eyes flicked up to his eyes, expecting to see the amber of the wolf in his eyes.  But they were all blue; it wasn’t the wolf desiring her, it was the man.  She felt his fingers in her hair and felt the tingle in her kunte grow.

“Alcohol must make you want things you don’t normally want.”  She said and his eyes flicked up to hers.

“There’s many tales of people waking up next to people they regretted bedding.”  He acknowledged. 

“I don’t want that kind of regret for either of us.”

“Nor do I.”  His fingers lingered in her hair for a moment longer before he removed his hand and returned it to hers.  “So… So tell me all about the Argonian girl… and her adventures…” 

Neither of them moved away from the other.

“That sounds like a good idea.” 


	20. Part 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i just couldn't wait to put this part up - so here it is!  
> this is the final chapter for book 1. there will be a short break and then i will begin posting book 2
> 
> i need to give huge thank yous to (in the order they currently appear in my inbox):  
> Alex  
> Kar kar  
> Manu  
> P
> 
> for the wonderful comments you've been leaving on every installment. your comments really mean so much to me and i'm glad you're enjoying the story! the next book id more violent, more raunchy and just more - it's already twice as long and i haven't finished it yet! though it's almost finished now!  
> i also wanted to thank you for your well-wishes and concern for my health. i am still very unwell, but i am also officially on the mend. 
> 
> so again - thank you for reading - super extra thank you for your comments - and thank you for your concern for my health - you're all amazing and i love you all!
> 
> i hope you enjoy this chapter. there's information about book 2 at the end. 
> 
> love from Emma xo

“And this is Hosni!”  Farkas told Saadia with a big grin; he was introducing the round of newest whelps, “He’s like my own personal whelp!”

“It’s an honour to be taught by the legendary Farkas of the Companions!”  He said staring up at Farkas with admiration. 

“Careful Hosni, you’ll make his head get too big!”  Saadia advised.

“Impossible!”  Hosni answered, “he deserves all praises.”  Farkas gave Saadia another huge grin, nodding to Hosni as if to say ‘have you heard this guy?’

Vilkas sat at the head table, his feet up, cutting pieces of apple and cheese, alternately eating a piece of each.  He watched them solemnly; last night he had nearly made love with Saadia.  He hadn’t been so drunk that it could be easily dismissed, nor had she been.  It was clear to him that she desired him, her words about finding him attractive had not just been a tease, or a simple matter of fact; they hid a deeper desire. 

And this only made his ache for her even worse. 

He took in the way she laughed with Farkas; the light in her eyes, the happiness on her face…

And then thought of the dark secret way they had come together last night; hidden from everyone, and stopping themselves from doing something so wrong.

He understood that he was the darkness in her life, and his brother was her light. 

His whole body hurt with that knowledge; he just wasn’t right for her, he wasn’t good for her… He watched her put her hand on Farkas’s arm, both of them laughing, Farkas touching her cheek with such ease, the shared look of love and admiration. 

He made himself look away as Aela sat beside him and handed him some pieces of paper; the jobs for today. 

“Vampires in Dawnstar?”  Vilkas asked reading one of them, “I guess that’s my job.”

“I guess it is.”  She said; it was the hardest of the tasks they had, except for the job Skjor had for her and Saadia. 

“Listen Shield-sister…” Vilkas hesitated, but knew he must talk to her about this, “I believe that Saadia will choose to take the Beastblood.”  He said softly, to keep the conversation private.  He watched as Aela’s eyes flicked to Saadia.  “And I intend to be the one to give it to her.” 

“You?”  Aela was surprised, but she remembered what Saadia had said.  She had so many questions as to why… “You made Farkas.  Skjor made me.  Kodlak made you…. When do I get to make someone?”  She hissed.

“You can make the next one.”  Vilkas said dismissively.  “She has asked me to give her the Blood and I will, after today’s jobs.”  He looked back at Saadia, “I am worried about the Dragonborn having Beastblood… but it’s not my decision to make.”  He continued but Aela shook her head.

“Why would you give her the Blood – you think it’s a curse?”  She asked, but as she looked at Vilkas, she saw it in his eyes, even as he lowered them to no longer be looking at her.

“You’re… you’re in love with her!  And you want to turn her so you can always be inside of her!”  Aela whispered and Vilkas looked away.  “Oh that’s delicious!”  She cackled, “2 brothers in love with the same woman!”  She leaned back in her chair and put her feet on the table, “I normally hate love triangles; I think they should all just get together!”  She said, folding her arms on her stomach, looking very pleased with herself, “Oh but this is different; you can’t just all be together.  One of you will always lose out… if not both of the brothers in the end.”  She laughed again.  “But you’ll always lose Vilkas, no matter what happens.”  She said, “Either she stays with Farkas, and you don’t have her… or she does somehow love you too… and then you know that Farkas will be unhappy without her – and he may even never forgive you for being with the woman he loves.  Or perhaps she’ll grow tired of you 2 and move on, if she’s wise.”  Aela laughed, “And then you’ll both be miserable.” 

“I’m well aware of the issues.”  Vilkas said without any hint of sourness or bitterness and Aela stopped her gloating and took him in. 

“You actually are in love with her…”  Aela marvelled.  “Like… really.”

“I thought you’d already established that in amongst all of your gloating.”  He said as his eyes returned to Saadia.  Aela stared at him in silence for a moment and then leaned forward in her chair, taking his hand.

“I’m sorry brother.”  She said honestly.  “You know that I know what it is like to love someone who will not be with me… and you have remained mercifully silent on it.  I should have extended you the same courtesy.” 

“It’s fine.”  He sighed, “I think I needed to hear it all out loud like that… keep me in my place.”  He turned his eyes to her and squeezed her hand.

“Well it’s you and me Vilkas.  Unloved, but loving nonetheless.”

“You and me, sister.”  Vilkas answered, taking some comfort in that.  “I could talk to Skjor if-”

“Oh there’s no point.  He’s made his decision.”  Aela said, “And so will she someday.”  Aela said looking over to Saadia, “We both just need to learn to let go somehow.”

“How do you let go of the love of your life?”  Vilkas asked. 

“I’ll let you know if I ever figure it out.”  Aela answered, her eyes returning to Saadia and Farkas, talking privately now. 

“Can I ask…?”  Saadia hesitated, “Have you and Aela… have you bedded each other?”  Saadia was thinking of her theory that Vilkas loved Aela, and the final piece of the puzzle was that the woman he loved had been bedded by Farkas. 

Farkas let out a deep breath and looked awkwardly towards Aela on the other side of the great hall.

“Why…?”  He started.

“I’m not jealous.”  She reassured.

“I wouldn’t think you would be; that’s not your style.”  He said, “It’s just…”

“Private.”  Saadia said, trying not to grin; now she knew that they had been together once.

“Yeah.”  Farkas said.  “And I don’t like lying…”  He sighed, “Look, everyone thinks we have bedded each other, but we never did.”  He let the words come out in a rush. 

“What?  Why?”  Saadia was surprised Aela would let such a rumour about her stand.

“When we were all whelps…”  Farkas sighed again.  “You know, Aela wasn’t much interested in sex.”

“Still isn’t.”  Saadia noted and Farkas nodded.

“Well when we were young, she wasn’t as sure of herself as she is now.  It’s such a Nord tradition to have sexual prowess, to be proud of it… She just… when it came up in conversation… she just lied and said she was bedding me.  And I didn’t mind everyone thinking I was bedding her, so I let it go.”

“And everyone still believes it… even Vilkas.”  She said, stunned. 

“Yeah I hate lying to him… but I get why she told the lie, and it’s hers to un-tell.” 

Saadia looked over at Vilkas, wondering just how long he’d been in love with Aela.  She saw them holding hands, Vilkas looking dejected, Aela saying something fierce.  She felt sorry for him; it must be so hard for him to touch her like that, to be so close to her and yet so far.  Saadia saw them share a sad smile and wondered if there was any chance of Aela letting go of her love of Skjor so she could find happiness with Vilkas. 

“You should tell him.”  Saadia said eventually, her eyes still on Vilkas and Aela as they talked; Vilkas was clearly holding in some huge emotions. 

“I suppose I should.”  Farkas sighed.  “Aela will kill me.”  He said, staring at Aela and Vilkas talking about something serious.  “Anyway, after our jobs, can I see you tonight?”

“I think Vilkas had something planned for me.”  Saadia said, “Possibly another job.  He didn’t really say much to me this morning, just said he’d need to see me tonight.” 

“Alright, well maybe after that?”

“Definitely after that.”  She turned to him and he pulled her into his arms.  “I’m almost certain we’re not supposed to do this in the great hall.

“I don’t care.”  He said, kissing her with intense sexual desire.

“It can’t be fun seeing that.”  Aela consoled Vilkas, “At least Skjor doesn’t take lovers anymore.  Or if he does, at least he’s discreet.”

“I’m glad to see her happy.”  Vilkas said and Aela believed him to be speaking honestly.  But she saw the way he lowered his eyes and squeezed his hand again. 

“Aela!  Saadia!”  Skjor called from the top of the stairs to the sleeping quarters.  He motioned for both of them to come to him. 

Saadia pulled out of the kiss with Farkas and turned her eyes to Skjor.

“Skjor has work for Saadia and me.”  Aela told Vilkas and he nodded.

“Good hunting Shield-sister.”

“Eyes on the prey, not the horizon, Shield-brother.”  She returned and headed towards Skjor. 

Skjor led the two women to his room and closed the door behind them.

“Today we go feral hunting!”  Skjor said with a grin, “I hear you’ve been interested in it?”  He asked Saadia.

“I am!”  She said, glad they’d been paying attention, “I want to see a feral before…”

“Before you are turned.”  Skjor said with a glint in his eyes.

“Before I make up my mind…” Saadia corrected unconvincingly.  Skjor and Aela shared a momentary look.

“Well let us help you with that.”  Skjor said, “We’ve had reports of a pack of ferals hunting in the woods near Blackmoor.”  He said, “Let’s go kill them.” 

Aela and Saadia shared a battle-hungry grin before following Skjor out of Jorrvaskr and through Whiterun.

“Blood running hot?”  Aela asked her as they began to run hard and fast across the fields of Whiterun Hold.

“Always!”  Saadia answered with a laugh. 

It wasn’t long before Skjor and Aela stopped, their eyes going to some trees that were heavily scratched.  Aela gently ran her fingers along the scratches, Skjor putting his nose nearly on them, breathing deeply. 

“Pack of 5.”  Skjor said and Aela nodded.  “I was told 3…”  He sighed and looked at Saadia with worry.

“I kill Dragons.”  Saadia answered his silent concern.

“Good point Shield-sister.”  He answered with an amused smile.  He turned his eyes to Aela.

“We can do it!”  Aela said, “The two of us could do it… but with the Dragonborn as well?  I pity those ferals.” 

“We can’t guarantee your safety.”  He said to Saadia.

“I need no such guarantee.”  She answered. 

“A true warrior!”  He clapped her on the back.  “They’re in a cave nearby.”  He said, “According to reports.  But they might be wrong too!”

They walked now, weapons drawn.  Farkas had explained that it was a tradition amongst the Circle to kill ferals in Human form as a true measure of skill and strength.  It was also required that the deaths be as quick and painless as possible.  But she also knew that should they be too terribly outnumbered it was okay for them to turn to even up the odds.

They came to the cave, deep heavy claw marks scarred the floor and walls at the entrance.

“I think the reports were probably right.”  Saadia noted. 

“Quiet.”  Aela said gently.  Saadia nodded and followed Skjor and Aela into the cave. 

She could smell the rot of decaying animal corpses, and a faint undertone that reminded her of how Meeko smelled when he was wet. 

The cave was little more than a medium sized cavern, no corridors, no hidden spaces, no loot.  Just darkness and 5 pairs of glowing amber eyes glaring at them. 

Skjor made a growling sound and the werewolves advanced slowly, heckles raised, teeth bared. 

They were enormous.  Spittle dripped from their sharp teeth, their claws were held up, ready to attack, growls rumbled deep in their chests.

“By the Gods…”  Saadia mouthed to herself.  She was glad she wasn’t here alone; she could see the power these creatures had. 

Skjor growled deeply again.

“He’s asking them to change to Human form.”  Aela said softly to Saadia.  “To ensure they are feral; they won’t turn if feral.” 

One of the werewolves grunted at the sound of Aela’s voice and then growled deeply at her; Saadia recognised the growl of sexual invitation.  This was a pack comprised entirely of males.  Another wolf smelled the air deeply and made a growl of sexual invitation, this one aimed at Saadia. 

“They have to know I’m not a wolf…?”  Saadia asked Aela.

“Makes no difference; they can still breed with you, even though you’re all Human.”  She answered, her eyes on the wolf approaching her, growling deeply again.  She snarled her rejection at it.

“Also a no from me.”  Saadia noted loudly. 

“Well now that that’s done…”  Skjor said, “they know we serve no purpose to them, other than to eat us.” 

Almost instantly the largest of the werewolves took aim at Skjor’s head, but Skjor leaned back, out of range and brought his massive greatsword up, and in one easy movement severed the wolf’s arm. 

The others all attacked at once.

Saadia was impressed by how quickly they moved their massive bodies, their claws lashing out at her.  She knew she couldn’t let them get a hold of her; they’d rip her apart with ease. 

She swung her hammer at the first werewolf’s stomach when he lunged forward.  And he grabbed her warhammer, reefing it from her hands.

“Oh dear…”  Saadia said as two of them advanced on her, one of them still holding her warhammer as if it were a twig. 

The other snapped at her with its jaws and she jumped back. 

Behind her Aela did a battle cry as she lunged at a werewolf with her double swords. 

Skjor was diving to the side as the biggest of the wolves rushed at him, even as its arm spurted blood. 

“Aim for as quick and clean as you can!”  Skjor reminded them as he rolled away from another lunge from the big wolf. 

“I’m just going to aim for dead!”  Saadia returned, her eyes staying on the 2 wolves in front of her.  The one that had taken her warhammer dropped it and curled its fingers expectantly, its eyes hunting her.

And that’s when third tackled her from the side.  Saadia skidded along the floor, the huge werewolf on top of her, already trying to rip her throat out. 

She headbutted it, the invisible Masque of Clavicus Vile’s horns ripping through the beast’s flesh, taking out an eye and enraging the wolf.  He howled in pain and anger and tore at Saadia’s chest with its claws.

Her armour barely held and she knew she had to get out from under this beast; the next clawing at her chest would completely destroy her armour. 

She parted her thighs, making the beasts knees slip to the ground instead of having that weight on top of her and grabbed hold of one of the beast’s paws, twisting it viciously as she raised her legs to go around the wolf’s waist, reaching down with her other hand to grab her dagger from her boot.  The wolf snapped at her face and she dodged her head to the side as her fingers closed around the hilt of her dagger.  She pulled it out and slammed it into the throat of the werewolf.  Blood spurted out of the wolf’s neck, and Saadia was glad for the full facial front plate of the Masque of Clavicus Vile; blood poured over her face - she’d have been turned by this feral, if not for the mouth protection of the Masque, if the ritual only required blood…

But the wolf fought on, even as his blood drained from him.  And now the other 2 were joining in.

“Really?”  She sighed as she saw the other 2 wolves standing over her, the wolf on top of her pushing his paws down on her shoulders to keep her down as he snapped at her throat again.  Saadia again dodging.  She head butted the wolf, ripping at its flesh again.  The other two wolves dropped to the ground, both clawing at her chest, their nails screeching through her armour.

It was easy to see how 7 of these things had nearly killed Vilkas, even though he was so skilled a warrior. 

“Alright arseholes, you asked for gruesome, slow and painful deaths.”  Saadia said through gritted teeth as all three werewolves leaned over her exposed chest, ready to devour her.  “YOL!”  She shouted and the effect was instantaneous; all three wolves roared and fell back in agony.  “By the Gods fire is useful.”  Saadia said as she got to her feet.

“By Oblivion!”  Skjor had seen the fire spew forth from Saadia’s mouth when he had turned to help her.  But he had no time to admire the Dragon Shout; his opponent finally tackled him to the ground, Skjor trapped on his belly underneath the monstrous beast.  Skjor had already removed its arm and delivered it a fatal blow, but the werewolves fought on until all the blood was drained from them, so the great beast was still deadly as it wrapped its fingers around Skjor’s neck, wanting to rip his head off.  Skjor grabbed the beast’s paws, trying to get them off his neck; he knew he only had to outlast the beast for a few moments – it was bleeding out right now. 

Saadia saw the wolves rolling around on the ground; using the moist dirt on the ground of the cave to try and douse the flames.  So she grabbed her hammer from the floor where the wolf had dropped it and turned to slam it into the head of the closest wolf. 

Saadia suddenly realised that her Dragon Blood was stronger than the Beastblood as she brought the hammer down repeatedly on all 3 helpless werewolves. 

She retrieved her dagger and slammed it into the back of the neck of the werewolf in top of Skjor, severing its spinal cord and leaving it alive but unable to move.  Skjor pushed the great heavy beast off him and got to his feet.  He looked down at the helpless beast and stomped its face repeatedly.

As Saadia turned to Aela a werewolf dropped to the ground dead in front of her, but one of the three that had attacked Saadia, cut up, bettered, burned and angry, grabbed Aela around the waist and started to squeeze her. 

Saadia took out her bow and arrow and took aim for the beast’s eye.

“Don’t miss!”  Aela wheezed through the death-grip of the beast as it backed away from a pissed off Skjor and a focussed Saadia. 

Saadia took a deep breath, focussing her mind, trying not to see Aela’s desperate battle to get breath…

And then she remembered what she had learned today; her Dragon Blood was stronger than the Beastblood.

“KAAN!”  She shouted; Kyne’s Peace. 

The werewolf instantly dropped Aela and looked confused, as if it had no idea what to do, or what was going on. 

Aela lay on the floor panting and Skjor ran at the werewolf, his greatsword aimed at the beast’s stomach. 

Saadia took aim and slammed an arrow in its snout, but still it didn’t respond. 

The second arrow awoke it from the effects of Kyne’s Peace.  It howled angrily and rushed at Saadia, Skjor’s blade eviscerating it as it lunged at Saadia.  She sidestepped its rushing attack and smashed her hammer into the back of its head as its momentum took it past her, sending it crashing to the ground, it’s intestines spilling out from Skjor’s attack. 

Saadia raised her hammer to kill the beast, but before she had chance Aela leapt at the beast, both swords held high, landing in a kneeling position on its back, she slammed both sword into it neck, reefing them out sideways, partially severing the neck on both sides, blood spurting everywhere, a small scrap of flesh was all that kept the head attached to the body.  She stood up, her armour torn and bloody and looked down at the dead werewolf for a moment before turning to look at Skjor; his armour as equally torn up.  They both turned to Saadia.

“Nice tits.” Skjor said and Saadia looked down at her bare chest and shrugged.

“Yeah.”  She agreed.  And they all started laughing.  Aela went to her and hugged her tightly.

“You saved my life sister.”  Aela said fiercely, “I will never forget this.”

“You would have gotten yourself out of it.”  Saadia answered.

“You saved my life too.”  Skjor noted.  “That bastard would have choked me before he’d bled out.”  He shook his head.  “I was told 3…” 

“Lucky Dragon Blood is stronger than Beastblood.”  Saadia said and Aela nodded.

“It’s a useful gift you have.”  Skjor agreed, “But it nearly failed you.”  He said nodding to her bare chest.

“Nah, my tits are stronger than wolf claws!”  She answered and they all laughed again, Skjor clapping her on the back.

“I could believe that sister!”  Aela said, “You truly are the best warrior of our age.”

“Oh that’s too big a claim…”  Saadia answered.

“The songs at the mead hall tomorrow night will say otherwise.”  Skjor said.

“Why not tonight?”  Saadia asked.

“Because I have another task for you tonight.”  Skjor said, “A special task.” 

“I’m supposed to be meeting Vilkas and then Farkas tonight.”  She sighed.

“They can wait.”  Skjor said, “I’ll tell them I have need of you at about 6 tonight.” 

“Alright.”  Saadia answered.

“But it’s not for everyone to hear, so we’ll meet in the Underforge.”  He said and Saadia cocked her head to the side.  But Skjor turned to search the bodies of the wolves for anything to indicate who they were.  Saadia turned to look at Aela and she shrugged.

“Don’t forget to get new armour from Eorlund.”  Skjor said and then sighed.  “There’s no sign of their humanity.”  Skjor said, “They kept nothing; they were too far gone to ever come back, even if any small part of them wanted to.” 

“I thought you couldn’t come back once you went feral.”  Saadia asked.

“He likes to keep hope that one day we’ll figure out how to help ferals.”  Aela said, but she shook her head to indicate that she didn’t believe it would ever happen. 

“Can I ask Skjor… what do you think of the Beastblood?”  Saadia asked, hoping that she might get a real answer from him finally. 

“Take the Beastblood and find out for yourself.”  He answered similarly to how he always answered. 

Saadia sighed but Aela put a comforting hand on her arm.

“Skjor.”  Aela said softly.  Skjor turned to them and sighed.

“Alright…”  He looked off, in thought, “It’s a sensitive question.”  He told her.  “I hope you’ve been careful broaching that subject with some of us.  The old man and I have our differences when it comes to this.”  He admitted, “It's a blessing, given by Hircine.”  He said resolutely, “To worry about the hereafter means losing sight of the now.  What do I care about Sovngarde?  Give me the power to tear my foes as a beast of the wild, and I will savour it.”

“Spoken like a true warrior.”  Aela said, her eyes alight. 

Saadia spent the entire run back to Whiterun considering what Skjor had said, thinking about her meeting with Vilkas tonight.  She wondered what he wanted, and had a feeling he might finally give her the Beastblood. 

And she felt ready.

But first she had to do whatever it was Skjor wanted.

 

***

 

“What happened to you girl?”  Eorlund asked, looking down at her bare chest.  They had entered Whiterun through the secret exit in the Underforge and Saadia had gone straight to Eorlund; unlike Skjor and Aela, she didn’t have a spare set of armour, so she needed some immediately.  The secret entrance to the Underforge could also only be opened by werewolves; but only werewolves who had been forged in the Underforge.  So no one could get through the door unless they were of the Circle, or with someone from the Circle.  It was an excellent safety measure.

“Werewolves.”  She said.

“Ferals, then?”  He asked and began to unlace her armour for her.

“Thanks.”  Saadia said, “You know about the feral hunts?”  She asked, wondering if he knew the Circle’s secret.

“Course I do girl.”  He said, “There’s not much I don’t know about.” 

Once he had her out of the armour he sighed and held it up. 

“This was good armour.”  He said, “I can’t repair it.  I’ll make you something new; something even better.” 

“Your family has always had a blacksmith at the forge?”  She asked and he nodded.

“For as long as we have memory.”  He said.

“And the Companions settled here because of the Sky Forge.”  Saadia mused.

“Hm.”  He said.

“Do you think it’s true that the Native Elves believed this place to be of the Gods?”  She asked.  Eorlund stopped working for a moment and looked up at her. 

“I suppose.”  He said, “It’s linked to the sun in their beliefs, and the Underforge below is linked to the moon.” 

“Moons?”

“No… just one moon in their legends…”  He said and shrugged, returning to his work.

Saadia furrowed her brows, wondering why the sun and the moon would be so irrevocably linked by whoever had built this place.  She wondered if the Gods had built it like the Elves believed, and if they had, why would they link the Sky Forge, with its huge ancient stone statue of a bird, with the Underforge, hidden in the stone of the mountain, dark and thrumming with power. 

Both forges were equally powerful, though they created different things.

Saadia was suddenly reminded of the Greybeards and their worship of the sky; of Kynareth, and she wondered if this was Kynareth’s forge… but then, what was the Underforge?  With its link to the moon… she wondered if it was symbolic of the realm of Hircine… but then why were those 2 linked? 

She watched Eorlund work, trying to figure out where the power of this forge came from.  But in the end, she just watched his muscles working, sweat dripping down his skin as he worked the blisteringly hot forge.  He was a grumpy old man, but working the forge had given him a strong body, and Saadia knew she’d have sex with him if he asked.  And that never ceased to surprise her.  Especially since she didn’t suppose he had an open marriage with Fraila.  She furrowed her brows at herself, and then remembered that Avulstein, Eorlund’s very attractive son, was open to having sex… once she freed Thorald from the clutches of the Thalmor…

“Ugh.”  Saadia sighed.

“If I’m boring you girl, you can go inside and get some food.”  Eorlund said testily.

“No, I was just thinking about Thorald.”  She said. 

“You know, I don’t expect you to actually do it.”  He said, “We all knew the risks of speaking out against the Empire in this climate.”

“It’s not the Empire that’s the problem.”  She said, “The Thalmor are the problem.”

“And if you free Thorald, you’ll have them all after you.”  Eorlund answered, “I can’t ask that of you or anyone.”  He sounded sad, but resigned.  Saadia sucked her teeth, deciding it was better not to say anything about that. 

“You know the Battle-Borns wrote countless letters to the Emperor and anyone who would listen to try and get him released.”  She said and Eorlund turned to look at her.

“Is that right?”  He sounded moved. 

“It was only when the Thalmor came to their house and threatened them that they started to tell everyone to stop asking about it…”  She hoped she could somehow stop this feud between old friends. 

“The Stormcloaks and Imperials have more in common than they have differences.”  Eorlund said.  “The Thalmor is enemy to both.”

“Yes.”  Saadia said, watching the old man think over what she had said for a moment before returning to his work. 

 

***

 

Saadia had had a strange feeling all day since the feral hunt.  She spent some time with Lucia, in the afternoon, watching the way Lynly and her daughter interacted; it was a good match. 

She enjoyed an early dinner with her family before heading up towards Jorrvaskr, a strange sense of anticipation in her stomach. 

She knew she was counting down the time until she saw Vilkas and got the gift of the Beastblood from him.  At least that’s what she hoped he wanted to see her about. 

She walked around the outside of Jorrvaskr towards the Underforge.  She knew she’d have to wait for Skjor to get there; only werewolves could open the door.  When she got around to the courtyard she saw Skjor and Aela eating together, talking softly. 

Aela looked up and gave her a smile, before turning back to Skjor, saying a few words and getting up. 

“I’ll see you in there Shield-sister.”  Aela said and headed across the courtyard to the Underforge door. 

“Sit.”  Skjor said gruffly, “I want to finish my meal – you’re early.” 

Saadia sat down and looked at his plate of food.  Had he been one of the brothers, she’d have eaten from his plate.  But she didn’t feel like Skjor would allow that. 

“So what’ve we got tonight?”  She asked.

“We’ll talk about in the Underforge.”  Skjor said, stuffing some pork in his mouth.  “You’re a fair fighter girl.”  He said, “But you give away your left swing.”  He told her.

“Yes Vilkas told me.”  She said, “He’s also told me that I give away my kick.”  She said.

“Vilkas is a good trainer.”  Skjor said, “You should listen to him.  He’ll probably live to be older than me.  He’s tough and skilled.” 

“I do listen to him.”  Saadia answered, “Sometimes I do it deliberately to manipulate my opponent… Sometimes it’s a case of old habits dying hard.”  She answered and he nodded.

“Try harder.”  Skjor demanded, “99% of what Vilkas says is spot on, so do what he tells you.” 

“And the 1%?” 

“That we’re cursed.”  Skjor said, “It’s the only foolish thing I’ve heard come out of his mouth.” 

“That, and that I’m a descendant of Talos.”  Saadia joked and Skjor stared at her with a straight face.

“I said what I said girl.”  He answered and ate another piece of meat. 

“Yes… right…”  Saadia looked away and sucked her teeth.  “Well I’m ready for whatever you’ve got for me this evening.”  She said, her mind on Vilkas and what was to come.

“This is no test or task new blood.”  Skjor said softly, pushing his plate away and getting up.  He nodded towards the Underforge and Saadia got up.  “Here’s all you need to know.”  He said as they walked together, “Jorrvaskr is the oldest building in Whiterun, and the Sky Forge was here long before it was.”  He said and Saadia nodded; she knew this much.  “And the Underforge has been here as long as the Sky Forge.  They both tap into an ancient Magick that is older than Humans or Elves.”  He opened the door for her and she went in.  “We bring you here to make you stronger new blood.”  Skjor said, “To give you a gift.” 

Saadia’s stomach lurched, her pulse speeding up.  Skjor’s eyes dropped to her chest and she knew he could hear her heart beating faster.  He nodded slowly.

“You always have a choice Shield-sister.”  He reassured her before motioning for her to go further into the Underforge. 

When she got to the large bowl on the stand in the middle of the cavern, she saw Aela in werewolf form, standing by the bowl. 

Saadia went to Aela and took her paw in her hand. 

“Aela.”  Saadia said in welcoming.  Aela made a soft noise in return and Skjor looked at them for a moment, noting how unafraid Saadia was of them in their werewolf forms, before speaking.

“I'm glad you came.  It's been a long time since we had a heart like yours among our numbers.”  He said, “That pitiful ceremony behind the hall to welcome you into the Circle as an uninitiated member does not befit warriors like us.  You are due more honour than some calls and feasting.”  He said shaking his head sadly, “Than some pathetic half membership in the Circle… treated as if you are not our equal… not our peer.  When it could be argued that you are our better.”

“No.”  Saadia said, “Not your better… but equal sounds good.” 

“Yes it does.”  Skjor said and Aela made a soft, welcoming growl.  “I’m glad you recognise Aela in her Werewolf form.  She has agreed to be your forebear.”  Aela snarled and Skjor chuckled, “Actually Aela wants to be your forebear; she has never given this gift to anyone, and it would be her great honour to pass it on to you, her sister.”  Skjor said and looked at Aela, “better?”  He asked, amused.  Aela made an approving sound and Saadia squeezed her paw, remembering what Aela had said about women having to stick together. 

Yes.

Yes, this was right.

To receive this gift from a woman who felt it was a gift, not a curse.

This was how it should be. 

Saadia gave Aela a smile before turning her attention back to Skjor. 

“In the past, this was done with great ceremony and honour; with all members of the Circle present.  But now we do this in secret because Kodlak is too busy trying to throw away this great gift we've been granted.”  He shook his head, unable to understand Kodlak, “He thinks we've been cursed.  But we've been blessed.  How can something that gives this kind of prowess be a curse?” 

“I don’t believe it is.”  Saadia answered.  “I never have.” 

“So we take matters into our own hands.”  Skjor answered her words and Saadia nodded, “To reach the heights of the Companions, where you belong, you must join with us in the shared blood of the wolf.” 

“I am ready to be initiated.”   Saadia answered.

“I am glad to hear that you are prepared to join your spirit with the beast world, friend.”  He said, clapping her on the back.  “Your blood will be as ours, and you will join our pack.  This is as it should be, Shield-sister.”

He went to Aela and she raised her arm.  Skjor took a deep breath, clearly taking in the importance of the moment.  And then he took out a dagger and drew it down the entire length of Aela’s forearm.  She snarled slightly but did not flinch as the blade cruelly sliced her forearm open.  He held her wounded, bleeding arm over the bowl and Saadia felt the air humming with power as it filled up with Aela’s blood. 

Saadia watched as the bowl filled up.  She started to worry Skjor was draining too much blood from Aela.  She wondered how much blood she’d have to drink… and then she noticed the bowl itself exuding a rich, deep blue liquid that mixed with the blood, swirling to produce a dark red, almost purple liquid. 

“The Blood calls sister.”  Skjor said, swiping his finger along the rim of the bowl; a blue film left on his finger.  He ran the blue liquid along Aela’s arm and it healed instantly. 

Saadia looked at the swirling liquid in the bowl, her heart hammering.  She took a deep breath, checking in with herself, making sure that she was sure…

And then she cupped her hands into the liquid, and without hesitation raised her hands to her mouth. 

She felt the liquid enter her body, instantly transfusing throughout every cell inside of her, a surge of incredible power making her gasp. 

“You must drink it all.”  Skjor said.  But Saadia didn’t need telling; she wanted it all.  She could practically feel the amber in her eyes; every cell in her body was thrumming.  The power was incredible; she could feel it interacting with the power of the Dragon souls inside of her.

She finished every drop, scraping at the bowl for it, the liquid seeming to draw towards her, wanting to be inside of her.

When she had had every drop, she backed away from the bowl, Skjor and Aela still in werewolf form, looking at her. 

She was panting, shaking with the power inside of her, trying to get it under control… but it would not be contained.

“AH!”  She cried as she felt a strange pain fill her whole body; as if it wasn’t big enough to hold her. 

Saadia looked at her hands and saw the fingers elongating; she understood what was happening now. 

She was turning for the first time. 

She doubled over, falling to her hands and knees, watching her nails grow longer, deadlier, and fur sprouting from her skin.  Her jaw pulled forward painfully and her teeth grew, more teeth erupting from her gums.

“Sink into it Shield-sister.”  Skjor said gently, “It’s always painful the first time…”

Saadia convulsed with pain as her legs and arms grew longer, her spine rearranging itself to form a tail.

And then she felt a sudden sense of peace… and the need to hunt… and joy – such joy that she would be allowed to hunt eternally. 

She tried to say something but only a soft yelp came from her mouth and Skjor nodded.

“I understand you Shield-sister.”  He said.  “Let’s hunt.” 

She watched as Skjor turned into a werewolf, and the three of them ran along the tunnel to the exit.

When she was on the plains of Whiterun Hold, she ran, ran as fast as she could; it felt like she was made of wind she moved so fast. 

It was freedom. 

And then she caught the smell of an elk…

Without a sound the three of them change direction, working in perfect unison.

She was a part of the pack now, and they anticipated each other perfectly. 

They brought down the elk with ferocious ease, ripping into it and feasting on the animal as it twitched and died. 

And then they were running again, frolicking together, leaping and rolling together, the three of them playing like pups. 

Until there was another smell… and exciting smell… Humans.

Prey.

They again took formation, Saadia leading, Skjor and Aela taking the flanks as they surrounded the group of Humans.

Saadia could see they were bandits.  And they had just killed a traveller on the road and were going through his belongings. 

They attacked, Saadia trying out her new strength and power, tearing bandits limb from limb.

She turned to see Aela ripping a bandit’s chest apart with her claws, exposing the still beating heart.  And then she ripped the heart from the bandit’s chest with her jaws, snapping it up and eating it, her whole body shuddering with power.  She turned to see Skjor doing the same.

And she understood… Vilkas had said there were ways to increase your power and strength and size…

And she felt the urge within herself… to feed…

She looked down at the two bandits under her paws.  One gurgling in agony, bleeding out from his missing limbs, the other clawing at her paw as she stood on his face, holding him down. 

She kept her paw on his face and dragged her claws down his chest, breaking every rib in the process.  He screamed.  And he was still trying to scream when she pulled his heart out of his chest. 

She looked to Aela who gave her an encouraging growl.

The smell of blood, the warmth of the still beating heart, the joy of the hunt, the desire for power… and the urge to feed…

She bit into the heart and instantly felt the power surging through her; she swallowed it whole, shuddering with an almost orgasmic power surge… so similar to what she felt when she absorbed a Dragon soul. 

She turned to the limbless bandit and ripped open his chest, diving in mouth first to eat the heart; the surge of power so seductive, so addictive.

She tore open another bandit, finding his heart and devouring it, the power surging through her was so much… too much… her Human blood was becoming overwhelmed.

She heard a warning growl from Aela, and then Skjor; both of them concerned she was liking this too much… that she was going feral. 

She tore open another bandit, but everything was going black… she was slipping into unconsciousness, the power in her feeling like it was electrifying her, painfully orgasmic, spasms ripping through her body.

-//-

The beating of wings in the darkness…

Saadia could barely move.  She was lying down, but she could feel no ground beneath her.

She opened her eyes and saw nothing but darkness.

She groaned as she tried to get up, but she simply couldn’t muster the energy. 

And the wings beating in the Void… all around her.

“No…”  She croaked.  “No…”  She felt a tear on her cheek. 

Alduin was coming for her.  She could see his shadow, blacker against the blackness that surrounded her. 

She watched his shape flying, circling around her… a huge, horned Dragon, soaring high… landing…. And somehow shrinking, into a humanoid shape. 

He walked towards her, wings held out either side of him and high above his head. 

As he drew closer, she could make out features; he looked almost Argonian, but with wings.  There were several horns in two rows on his head, arranged just as she saw them on so many Dragons. 

He knelt down beside her, his fingers tenderly brushing her hair from her face.

“Akatosh?”  Saadia understood, and she wept.  “I’m sorry…”

“Oh my child…”  He soothed her.

“I didn’t mean to waste your gift…”  She wanted to touch him, to beg forgiveness, but the energy of weeping was too much…

“You did not waste my gift.”  He whispered to her.

“I didn’t mean to taint it…” The fears of Vilkas haunted her.  But Akatosh shushed her and gently stroked her cheek.

“This is as it’s meant to be.”  He looked up and she struggled to turn her head to see where he was looking. 

A tall, incredibly attractive man was walking towards them.  He was wearing leather pants, his muscled torso covered with blue tattoos, a spear in his hand, his long black hair flowing behind him, plaits in it, just as the Nords wore it.

“Where is she?”  The man said, his eyes going from Saadia to the Void around them.

“She is coming.”  Akatosh answered calmly.

“I ache…”  He replied.

“Yes we know.”  Akatosh said, obviously sick of hearing the man complain about this.  Akatosh continued to gently stroke Saadia’s hair, soothing her. 

The man with the blue tattoos looked at Saadia curiously. 

“She’s magnificent.  My greatest creation.”  He said as he motioned with his hand and Saadia’s body moved into an upright positon.  Akatosh rose beside her, gently taking her hand as the other man stared at her curiously.  “Mortals are so fragile.”  He said as he ran his finger down Saadia’s cheek.  “But not this one… Not any of the Companions – what an achievement of mine!  A mighty Circle of elite warriors bearing my gifts…”  He seemed thoroughly impressed with this, “Their honour and skill in battle honours me.  Every single one of them is a warrior above all others.”  He clearly revelled in this.  He wore his emotions on his sleeve it seemed.  “I had once thought that Aela was the height of my creation – so fierce and loyal… and then there was Vilkas, who I thought had to be the pinnacle of my creation; he and my Blood were in perfect unison, acting as one… and then he rejected me.”  He was very clearly hurt by this, “But now I have you.”  He whispered to her. 

“Hircine…?”  Saadia croaked.

“You know me.”  He said gently, “you feel my Blood within you.” 

And then there was a light.  And Hircine turned instantly.

“She’s here.”  Hircine breathed.

And Saadia saw such a deep yearning and complete love… such total adoration in his eyes.  Hircine completely worshipped whoever ‘she’ was…

Saadia turned her eyes to see where he looked.

It was Kynareth, walking through the Void towards them. 

“Akatosh,” Kynareth bowed her head to the Lord of the Divines respectfully and then turned to Hircine, “Hircine.”  She whispered and he took her hand, kissing it gently.

“I’ve missed you.”  Hircine whispered.

“And I you.”  They stared into each other’s eyes.  “But we must see to our child this time…”  Kynareth said, gently stroking his face.  “She is confused.”  Kynareth turned to Saadia, “Things with the Gods are not as simple as mortals would believe.”  Kynareth told Saadia, “But you will learn all of this in good time.”

“Why am I here…?”  Saadia tried to turn her head to Akatosh, but she felt too weak.

“Your mortal shell cannot yet contain such power.”  Kynareth explained, “The blood of 4 Gods runs in your veins now.”  She stroked Saadia’s cheek. 

“Four Gods…?”  Saadia furrowed her brows.

There was a flash of lightning and Hircine sighed.

“He does like to make an entrance.”  He said unimpressed.

“A product of not being born a God.”  Akatosh shared Hircine’s tone.

“And yet he is one of us.”  Kynareth gently corrected both of them. 

Saadia felt a tremble go through the air and then there was a fourth God before her.  He was a huge burly man, with knotted muscles; a true warriors body.  His beard and mane of hair were long and plaited in places, his eyes piercing blue.  He had a huge greatsword in his hand and he sheathed it on his back as he approached them. 

He looked almost exactly like his statue in Whiterun.

“Talos…”  She whispered.  And he embraced her in a crushing hug.

“Let’s get you back in balance, my kin.”  He said in a booming voice.

“Kin?”  She asked and suddenly understood… “Oh… Vilkas is going to be insufferable.”  She complained.

“Don’t tell him, my girl.”  Talos said with a grin.  “Not yet anyway.”  He stroked her face, “Ah but you look like her…”  He said and sighed.  “After all these generations, her beauty is everlasting.” 

“Her gift to all Humanity was far more than just beauty.”  Kynareth reminded him.

“Of course.”  Talos answered.  “A mighty woman who rests in Aetherius.” 

“I miss Aetherius.”  Akatosh sighed. 

“We will return.”  Kynareth said, “When it is over.” 

Saadia noticed that Hircine never took his eyes of Kynareth; he was very clearly, deeply in love with her, and made no attempt to hide it. 

“Let’s do what we came here to do.”  Akatosh said looking around.  “I hate this place.”

Hircine waved his hand and Saadia moved again, returning to a lying position, but floating at waist height. 

“What’s happening?”  Saadia asked.

“We are going to help your body handle all the power that’s inside of it.”  Kynareth explained, laying her hands on Saadia’s heart.  Talos put a hand on her head, Hircine and Akatosh took her hands.

“We need Azura.”  Hircine noted as Saadia felt a soothing energy surge from each of their hands. 

“In time.”  Kynareth answered Hircine and then looked at Saadia, “You will have more power in time, my child.”  Kynareth told her, “But to get that power you must make all sorts of friends.”

“She means you must please my kind as well hers.”  Hircine clarified.  “Daedra as well as Aedra.”

“Then you will be able to fulfil your potential; do you understand?”  Akatosh asked.

“Yes.”  Saadia answered, the sense of calm and peace from their hands filling her.  She felt strength returning to her limbs.

“You have our Blood, our Blessings.”  Kynareth said, “You are our Champion…”

“I understand.”  Saadia answered. 

“Continue as you have been.”  Akatosh said.

“Follow your instincts.”  Hircine advised.

“It will take time to defeat Alduin.”  Kynareth warned her.

“And never stop fighting, my girl.”  Talos said.

-//-

Saadia’s eyes opened to see grass and her blood-stained fingers, she could feel the sun shining down on her.  She saw her armour, carefully gathered together and could hear Aela and Skjor quietly talking.

She was lying, completely naked, on her stomach, in a sun dappled clearing in the woods.  And she could feel the power coursing through her.  The blessings of 4 Gods.  In balance, working in harmony, her mortal body able to contain it all. 

She felt peace…

But she could hear the gentle scratches of a field mouse under her; digging a tunnel underground.

And she could smell the grass, the dirt, Aela’s fertility, Skjor’s musk… the blood pumping in the hearts of a herd of deer eating grass in the next clearing.  She could hear their hooves bending the grass and every word of her Shield-siblings’ conversation.

This was going to take some getting used to.

She sat up and looked around; everything seemed clearer… sharper somehow. 

“Quite a gift.”  She mumbled to herself, tasting the air as she breathed in.  Her own voice sounded different to her; there was a rich vibrancy, a wealth of undertones…

“You’re awake.”  Aela said, sounding relieved, “I was starting to think you might never come back.”  Saadia stared at her in amazement; the things she could pick up in Aela’s voice…

“It was a close thing for a while there.”  Skjor agreed.  Saadia turned her eyes to Skjor, again picking up so much from his voice.

“Yours was not an easy transformation.”  Aela told her as she came over.

“Nor was Vilkas’s.”  Skjor noted.  “Or Farkas’s…”

“But you’re alive.”  Aela continued, kneeling down in front of Saadia, “Congratulations sister.” 

“We have to plan a celebration for you.”  Skjor said with a triumphant smile.  “Kill some Silver-Hand and eat their hearts!” 

“They always make such easy prey.”  Aela agreed.

“And we’ll slaughter them all!”  Skjor was clearly enjoying this. 

“I have to explain the brothers why I didn’t show up to see them last night first.”  Saadia answered, looking around, still marvelling at everything.  The world was so much richer than she’d ever realised. 

“As soon as they smell you, they’ll understand.”  Skjor answered. 

Saadia felt a sudden jolt of fear, her hear quickening.

“Don’t worry sister, they will understand.  They cannot hate you for being as they are now.”  Aela reassured her. 

“I don’t know; I think Vilkas will give it a good try.”  Saadia said with a laugh but Aela’s face was straight.

“There is much you will learn now that you are like us.”  Aela answered and Saadia heard the undertone in her voice. 

“So what happened after we killed the bandits?”  Saadia asked; they very clearly were not anywhere near that slaughter. 

“You… ugh…”  Skjor tried to think of the right words.

“You gave us even more trouble than Farkas did at his first turning.”  Aela answered and Saadia nodded; she understood that Farkas had nearly gone feral during his first turning… She remembered that feeling of losing control of the power.  She looked down at her hands and knew that there was no chance of her losing control right now. 

“Sorry about that.”  She mumbled, thinking of her time in the Void. 

“You were born into the pack, sister!”  Aela dismissed her apology, “I almost envy you; the first time is always the most… intense.”  She sighed, “And it’s also the time you’ll be at most risk of turning feral.”

“For the next month or so you should watch yourself in regards to turning.”  Skjor noted. 

“You’ll need to build up your strength before you can call on the strength of the wolf again.”  Aela said, “But just be careful where you turn.  Some cowards in this land can't stand the sight of glory before them.”

“The important thing to remember is that if you choose to never turn again, you’ll still have the increased senses, you’ll still be able to call on some of the strength and speed.”  Skjor said, “It’s a gift, even if you don’t fully embrace it.” 

“And the blood of your foes can heal you, their hearts increase your power... If you're willing to feed.”  Aela and Skjor shared a sly smile and Saadia could tell they were wondering if she remembered.

“Yes I felt the power.”  Saadia answered their expressions.  “It was almost too much.  The Gods had to pull me into the Void to balance my power.”

“You were in the Void?”  Aela asked.

“Yes I saw Hircine.”  She said and Aela’s eyes lit up.  “I also saw Kynareth, Akatosh and Talos.”  She said, “All of them together.”  She shook her head, “They worked together to balance me.”

“Hircine and the others…?”  Aela asked, “Together?”

“They said the Gods were more complex than we know.”  She answered and stood up slowly; it almost felt as if her body was new.

“Apparently.”  Skjor answered slowly.

“He mentioned you by name, sister.”  Saadia said and Aela’s face broke out into rapturous joy.  “He said you were fierce and loyal; one of his greatest creations.” 

“I am blessed.”  Aela said happily.  Saadia had never seen Aela so enthused.  She grabbed Saadia’s shirt and handed it to her.

“Yeah, he likes all the Companions.”  Saadia said giving Skjor a nod.  “He calls you elite warriors above all others, who’s honour and skill, honours him.”  She told him and Skjor seemed satisfied with that.

“So what do you think of our curse now?” He asked with humour, “Want a cure?” 

“You shouldn’t talk like that.”  Aela said softly.  “I know the old man is a fool for wanting a cure, but I love Kodlak.”

“I do too.  He’s my Shield-brother, my oldest friend.  But we both know he’s wrong on this.”

“I agree.”  Saadia said softly and Aela and Skjor grinned together.

“We're made into the greatest hunters in the land.”  Aela said, agreeing with Saadia happily, “If half of the Circle are worried about some mead-swilling afterlife in Sovngarde, they’re free to pursue it.  I'll take the glories of the hunt right here.  With you my sister!”  Aela took her hand, “I’m so glad you see it as we do.” 

“Well it does even things up in the Circle doesn’t it?”  Saadia said astutely as she began lacing up her armour, “It’ll make some of the votes go more your way.” 

“Well that’s a bonus!”  Skjor agreed, “But I wouldn’t want to see you regret this.”

“Yes it gladdens me to see you happy with this gift.”  Aela agreed. 

“I am somehow starving.”  Saadia said as she finished dressing.  “I need to go h-”  But she couldn’t think of Jorrvaskr without worrying. 

Aela and Skjor picked up on her mood and shared a look. 

“Let’s go home sister!  Hunting Silver-Hand can wait.”  Aela said, “Thank you for letting me be the one to bring you into the pack.” 

“It could never be anyone else.”  Saadia knew this to be true.  Vilkas may have gone through with it, he may not have.  But no one could be more pleased or proud than Aela; she deserved this joy. 

They began running in the direction of Jorrvaskr, Saadia’s mind going over the moment in the cave when Vilkas had first offered to turn her.  He had known he couldn’t do it there, had known she would say no.  Just as he had known his brother would say yes.  She also knew that he couldn’t have turned her after the bath either…  He certainly liked to have things his way… But she couldn’t help but wonder if he had intended to turn her last night.  It seemed more likely that he would have found a way to delay it, or scare her off it. 

She decided that Vilkas had some explaining to do…

 

***

 

The moment she stepped foot in Jorrvaskr Kodlak and the brothers turned to look at her. 

She could see the looks on their faces; disappointment. 

She felt a pain in her heart, her hunger gone. 

She immediately turned and left.

She wanted to go home, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to see Lucia yet…

So she went to the Underforge; a birthplace of sorts. 

She ran her fingers down the now empty bowl; still thrumming with power.  The same power she had felt in Hircine’s fingertips; the power that ran through her veins now. 

She felt deeply connected to this place now. 

 

***

 

“WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?”  Farkas roared at Aela.

“I WAS GIVING HER WHAT SHE WANTED!” 

Vilkas watched silently as Kodlak closed the doors to his study and sighed.

“Skjor, my oldest friend…”  He shook his head sadly, “I did not think you would go against the decision of the Circle.”

“It was what she wanted, my friend.”  Skjor answered calmly, “No one forced her.”

Vilkas watched the 2 simultaneous arguments silently; his body awash with mixed emotions, thoughts…

“If anyone was going to do it, it should have been me!”  Farkas was furious.  No one had ever seen him this angry before.  But Aela did not back down.

“And what gives you that right?”  Aela spat at him, “Because you rut?”  She curled her lip in disgust, “I share a deeper bond with Saadia; the bond of womanhood, of sisterhood.” 

“It does not matter if it is what she wanted.”  Kodlak said sadly, “We had agreed not to do it.”

“No, you 3 barrelled over the top of Aela and me, as you always do!”  Skjor answered.

“Do you not think long-term, my friend?”  Kodlak asked, “She is the Dovahkiin!”

Vilkas turned from them and quietly left the room.

In all their arguments and defensiveness, none of them had thought to check on Saadia. 

He took a deep breath, tapping into his senses fully and followed her scent to the Underforge. 

 

***

 

Saadia heard the footsteps at the door to the Underforge.  She breathed deeply.  A familiar scent, but not one she had properly smelled since having the Beastblood, so she could not properly put the face to the smell. 

But it was male; she could smell his musk… and it was beautiful.  She felt it infuse her being like golden treacle, syrupy in her innards. 

“Oh… wow…”  She breathed as her kunte started to throb with anticipation.  His smell was so arousing; she could feel her eyes turning amber with desire to mate. 

She was still new to this, so had no idea how to properly control it.  She kept her eyes turned down, looking at the bowl, her fingers on its rim. 

She saw his hand touch the rim beside her, his scent intoxicating. 

“They’re all arguing in there.”  He said softly.

“Vilkas?”  She looked up at him.  It was both a complete surprise and totally expected that it should be him, standing beside her, the first to greet her at Jorrvaskr… smelling like the most attractive being in existence. 

Vilkas noted the amber in her eyes.

“It took me a while to get that under control.”  He said, “At first, even the slightest things would set it off.  I was hungry, or angry, or I saw a mammoth, or the air smelled nice, or… it was never ending.”  He tried to comfort her, “You’ll get used to it, and get it under control.  Eventually it’ll only happen in moments of very deep need.” 

“Like the very deep need to mate?”  She asked and stepped closer to him, taking a deep breath.  “You smell so good.”  She whispered.  Vilkas couldn’t take his eyes off her. 

She growled deeply; a growl of sexual invitation and then stopped, a hand going over her mouth.  She laughed slightly.

“I’m sorry…”

“I know what it’s like.  It’s alright.”  He answered.

She took another step closer, her face going towards his neck, smelling deeper still.

“Why do you smell so good to me?”  She asked lustfully, another growl in the back of her throat.

This time Vilkas could not stop himself from giving a return growl and she turned her face to his, their eyes met, both glowing with amber and desire. 

“We really should keep this under control…”  He breathed through gritted teeth, trying to hold back his aching need for her.  “You can’t turn or tap into the wolf for a few weeks… it’s too dangerous.” 

She growled lustfully again and he returned the growl.

“Why do I want you so much…?”  She couldn’t hide her lust.  “I feel like I need to have you inside of me...”  She growled again, a far more urgent invitation to mate.  Vilkas groaned, his hands coming up to cup her face, but stopping millimetres away from her skin – still not touching her beautiful face.  He fought with his own need for her, trying to remember all the reasons he’d been fighting it back this long. 

“It’s just the wolf…”  He told her a deep growl finishing off his sentence.

“Is it…?”  She sounded deeply confused, “I don’t understand…” 

She stepped closer, pressing herself to him, his hands instinctively dropping to her hips; there wasn’t much now that could stop this from happening, even as he fought against his ache, his yearning…

And when she laid her hands on his chest and felt that familiar shiver go through his body, the tightening of his muscles… she heard his pulse speed up, smelled his desire for her, she could taste his arousal in the air… but there was something more…

She stepped back, her hands dropping from his chest, staring at him with a curious look.  What was that she had sensed in him?

As soon as he saw the look in her eyes it tempered his passion.

He scoffed slightly, resigned to the conversation they had to have, shaking his head slowly.

“I suppose I can’t hide it from you anymore.”  He said softly, a note of apology in his tone.  “Not now.”  She remained silent, trying to process what her senses were telling her.  It was fuzzy and scrambled; all of this was still so new, and he was repressing it, trying to keep it from being seen.  “When we were stuck in that hole…”  He said, looking back down at the bowl, “You asked me if I wondered how things could have been different between us.”  She stared at him as he spoke, “And I lied to you.  I told you that I never did… but the truth is I think about it every day.”  He looked up at her, “If I had just said what I’d wanted to when I first met you at the inn… if Farkas hadn’t sat down beside you… if I had just done something…”  He shook his head, his eyes on her face trying to gauge how she was taking this, “Would it have been me?  Could it ever have been me?” 

“Was this another thing you were never going to tell me?”  She asked almost silently. 

“Yes.”  He said honestly.  “It’s mine.  It’s not your problem and I’ll work extra hard to keep it under control, so you never have to sense it again… I firmly believe it’s only gotten as out of control as it has because I can’t have you.”  He took a deep breath to steady his emotions, knowing that he had to push it all down so she didn’t have to feel his racing pulse right now, smell his desire for her, sense his feelings… “Given time, I know these feelings will go away and… everything will be fine between us.”  He tried to promise her. 

“Was our friendship a lie as well?”  She asked and he heard the slight crack in her voice, the curse of his wolf hearing; she hid her emotion well… but not well enough for him to not see it.  “Was it something you did just to get close to me because you wanted me?”

“No.  Please don’t ever believe that.”  He said feeling a panic bubbling up; this was going far worse than he had ever expected.  He had never dreamed that she would think that their friendship was a lie.  “It means everything to me.” 

“So I’m like… the greatsword that you and your brother reached for at the same time?”  She asked, remembering what Vilkas had told her about being the older brother – he had to sacrifice what he wanted for Farkas, this time the note of pain in her voice was stronger.  “You’ll just let him have me… because… that’s what Vilkas the older brother does… and you’ll just lie to me… this whole time… about what you feel… who you are?” 

“No.”  He shook his head, wishing he could find the right words.  “You are not an inanimate object Dovahkiin… I did not give you to my brother.  You both made choices.”

“And so did you.”  She answered.

“You speak as though you wanted me to fight my own brother for you… I can’t do that…”

“I wanted you to tell me the truth Vilkas!  You let me talk about this other woman – this great beauty… but it was me, wasn’t it?  What a fool you let me make of myself!”

“No, I valued your opinion on the matter.”

“The matter?  The matter being me!”  She answered angrily.  “WHY DO YOU HAVE TO SMELL SO GOOD?”  She yelled at him, pushing him away, tears on her cheeks.  But she stepped closer again to smell him, panting with emotion and desire.  She turned away suddenly, her hands going to her face, wishing she didn’t smell him. 

“I’m so sorry… please…”

“Say my name.”  She whispered vehemently, turning back to him.  He stared at her silently, their eyes locked on each other’s.  “Say it.” 

“I can’t…”  He whispered regretfully. 

“What even am I to you?”  She said, “The woman you can’t have… the descendant of a God… the enigma wrapped up in a mystery… the object your brother reached for first… the thing you’ve put on a pedestal…”  Her voice was ragged with emotion, tears on her face, “I’m just Saadia.  Say my name, Vilkas!” 

But he was silent. 

Saadia sniffed as she nodded, turning away. 

“Please...”

“Don’t.  I need to be away from you.”  She said, “You smell too good… and you’re a liar… I just… why do you smell so good to me?”  She asked him pitifully. 

“Shield-sis-”

“Don’t!”  Her tone was deadly and he stopped his tongue.  “I need to be nowhere near you.”  She walked away, heading down the corridor to the plains of Whiterun Hold.  Vilkas watched her go, his emotions raging inside of him. 

He stared at the empty Underforge, reliving every mistake he’d made with her for some time…

“Wait…”  He suddenly realised what a fool he’d been, “Saadia wait!”  He ran down the corridor, but she was already gone. 

He leaned back against the rock, trying to understand everything that had just happened. 

He knew she would return when she had had time to process what had happened, so he decided to go back in and stop the Circle arguing. 

Vilkas walked across the courtyard, heading into Jorrvaskr, feeling the shakiest he ever had ever been in his whole life. 

When he got back to Kodlak’s study they were at least speaking more respectfully to each other. 

“Is she alright?”  Kodlak asked as Vilkas closed the door.

“She needs some time alone.”  Vilkas answered, Aela shaking her head.

“No, she was happy when we brought her home.  You 3 being so disappointed is what made her sad… what did you say to her?”  Aela said in an accusatory tone.

“I was… perhaps a little hard on her.”  Vilkas said, carefully repressing all of his feelings.  But all of them had sensed how out of sorts he was. 

“How hard?”  Aela asked dangerously. 

“She… she went to walk it off.”  Vilkas said.

“In the fields of Whiterun Hold?”  Skjor asked meaningfully, “The game rich fields of Whiterun Hold…?”

“You fool.”  Aela whispered, “You let her go out there alone.”

“I didn’t exactly have a choice.”  Vilkas said sourly.

“Do you not understand whelp?”  Skjor said angrily to Vilkas, “She’s vulnerable, she’s new to the Blood… and all that prey in the fields…”

“She will more than likely turn.”  Kodlak said, “And become feral.” 

“We can’t let her go feral!”  Farkas said, truly alarmed.

“Yes, I know Dragonborn and all that.”  Skjor answered.

“Our Shield-sister!”  Aela answered Skjor angrily, “We must protect her because she is our Shield-sister!” 

“To Oblivion with all of that!”  Farkas said emotionally, “We can’t let her go feral because I love her.”  He turned his terrified eyes to Vilkas, wanting him to make it alright. 

But Vilkas knew he could only make it worse.

 

***

 

Saadia ran as fast as she could, the ground disappearing under her paws. 

She smelled the prey, but ignored it… she wanted to run. 

And run. 

And run.

She ran into a river, across creeks, through mountainous terrain.  She didn’t stop until the huge expanse of the semi-frozen ocean spread out against her. 

And then she plunged into the ocean.

 

 

 

 

 

 

This is the end of book 1

 

[book 2 is here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12694743)

 

 

 ‘wild mountain thyme’ is not my song – google it – try find it sung by a woman (yes I know the words are a little different) it’s lovely

 

The songs Llewellyn sings (with some changes by me to make them fit): 'Foy Porter' by Machaut Virelai (English translation), ‘Ballade de Marguerite (Normande)’ by Oscar Wilde, ‘Landlord Fill the Flowing Bowl’ (last couple of verses are mine), ‘The Captain’s Wife Lament’, and I can’t remember the name of the last one.  Eek.  I made up ride below the crupper – not the saying, the little song, Watkin’s ale is also a ye olde time phrase.

 

Song at Fertility Festival – ‘Who is at My Window Weeping (the Silver Dagger)’ – Hey Rosetta! – it’s a traditional song, and I incorporated some of the traditional lyrics with the Hey Rosetta! arrangement.  <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7jvLPF27qXM> – here is the Hey Rosetta! version so you can get an idea for the general sound of it.

 

 

 

 

 

future posting dates (but as we know I often post earlier!)

 **BOOK**  
Part 1 - status: already written – due: 04/12/17  
Part 2 - status: already written – due: 11/12/17  
Part 3 - status: already written – due: 18/12/17  
Part 4 - status: already written – due: 25/12/17  
Part 5 - status: already written – due: 01/01/18  
Part 6 - status: already written – due: 08/01/18  
Part 7 - status: already written – due: 15/01/18  
Part 8 - status: already written – due: 22/01/18  
Part 9 - status: already written – due: 29/01/18  
Part 10 - status: already written – due: 05/02/18  
Part 11 - status: already written – due: 12/02/18  
Part 12 - status: already written – due: 19/02/18  
Part 13 - status: already written – due: 26/02/18  
Part 14 - status: already written – due: 05/03/18  
Part 15 - status: already written – due: 12/03/18  
Part 16 - status: already written – due: 19/03/18  
Part 17 - status: already written – due: 26/03/18  
Part 18 - status: already written – due: 02/04/18  
Part 19 - status: already written – due: 09/04/18  
Part 20 - status: already written – due: 16/04/18  
Part 21 - status: already written – due: 23/04/18  
Part 22 - status: already written – due: 30/05/18  
Part 23 - status: already written – due: 07/05/18  
Part 24 - status: already written – due: 14/05/18  
Part 25 - status: already written – due: 21/05/18  
Part 26 - status: already written – due: 28/05/18  
Part 27 - status: already written – due: 04/06/18  
Part 28 - status: already written – due: 11/06/18  
Part 29 - status: already written – due: 18/06/18  
Part 30 - status: already written – due: 25/06/18  
Part 31 - status: already written – due: 02/07/18  
Part 32 - currently writing

 **BOOK 3**  
Planned out  
  
**Book 4**  
Planned out

 **Book 5**  
Planned out

**Maybe Book 6**


End file.
